


The Things We Hide

by Jewelle32



Category: The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 73,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jewelle32/pseuds/Jewelle32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl gets captured by the Governor but in a tragic mistake,  the group don't bother to look for him because they  think he's with his brother. They eventually rescue him but what exactly did happen to him when he was a prisoner at Woodbury? He returns to them a broken, shattered shell of his former self and Rick worries whether he will ever be able to recover.</p><p>But can the one person the group don't want with them help bring Daryl back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

i.

Rick went in to check on Daryl. He paused outside the door listening. Didn't hear anything – and a chill went through him. Because, the mental state the younger Dixon was in- could he have done it? The thought filled him with dread.

He weighed up the two options – burst in and surprise him or the silent approach. Knowing what his nerves were like and not wanting to jangle them any further, he decided upon the latter.

Turned the door handle silently.

Didn't have time to draw breath when he saw an indistinct man-shaped mass pounce on him and he felt the knife at his throat.

Damn! He'd forgotten how dangerous Daryl could be – quick as a cheetah making him wonder how they'd managed to capture him in the first place. Yet he felt no fear.

He stayed still, calm.

'Daryl?' He called out softly. 'It's me, Rick .'

Silence but the knife still stayed at his throat.

'I'm not gonna hurt you.'

Suddenly the knife was gone from his throat, shortly after came the bounce of worn bed-springs, the house they were hiding in was quite old.

Then he heard it – a deep, throaty sob coming from the other man that tore into Rick's chest. Made him want to put his arms around him and rock him, comfort him. Like he would have done Carl.

But he didn't dare.

Then, nothing.

'Daryl?' No answer but then he didn't expect one. Rick had sent out a team to try and track down Merle – although he had his reservations about letting him back into the fold but if he could help Daryl, they'd all have to swallow down their grudges. Maggie and Glenn included. They cared about Daryl, she'd cried when she found him, along with Andrea.

He remembered his cop-training from his old life. What to do, not to do. What to say, not to say in these situations.

With people who had been through what the younger Dixon had endured. But yet he typically remained stoically silent since they'd brought him back about what he'd suffered was clear in the way he trembled and the constant pain and terror in his eyes. Only in his sleep, would he reveal his secrets sometimes. Like he'd never left Woodbury and he didn't know if he could trust the people he was with not to hurt him. Even though they'd lived together for months before.

'I'm coming over. Just want to sit with you. That OK?'

No answer but Rick decided to take his silence as consent.

It was still dark and dawn wasn't very far away. Even so, his eyes had had time to adjust to the darkness and he could see the shape of Daryl's body. His eyes automatically trying to make out the scars he knew were on his back even though he knew that it was too dark to see.

He went over as quietly as he could, and hesitated before he sat down on the bed where the Hunter was curled up in a ball, panting shallowly. Rick knew by his breathing that he was fighting panic.

'It's OK. It's only me.' He stretched out his hand slowly to touch his friend's shoulder where he was facing the wall with his back to him.

'D..don't. Please don't. Daryl pleaded and Rick immediately withdrew.

Even though Daryl was facing the other way, he knew what Rick was up to. But the ex-cop felt a glimmer of hope when he heard the words.

They were the first words that Daryl had spoken since they'd rescued him.

'I'm going to stay with you. That OK?'

Rick saw the hunter nod in the darkness and give a long shuddering sigh.

He stayed to the morning watching over him as his body relaxed and his breathing grew slow and regular. and Daryl slept peacefully through. Rick dozed off himself before dawn. It seemed that having someone he trusted there with him helped him to get through the night.

ii.

Daryl barely registered the return of his brother unexpectedly as they sat around the campfire. Michonne had taken out a team to track him down but instead, he'd found them. Rick saw a brief gleam of recognition in Merle's brother's eyes but he didn't get up to greet him. In fact, he cringed when Merle, unaware of the situation or what had been done to his baby brother, slapped him heartily on the back. 'Well, how's it goin', baby brother? Miss me?'

But Daryl made a hurt small animal sound and cowered away from his hand.

Merle looked at him in mingled hurt and disgust. His expression morphing rapidly into worry when he realised that there was something seriously wrong with his baby brother.

'Merle...' Michonne started.

'...we need to talk to you in private.' Rick finished. 'Maggie, look after him.'

Merle looked at his brother in concern as Daryl turned away and acted like he didn't even see him there.

A few moments later, a fight nearly broke out.' What? Ya tellin' me ya did what to him? Thought he was with me?'

'We didn't know...' Rick tried to explain. 'We didn't know he was still there...We thought he'd gone with you.'

…...

Merle whirled around. Face red, fists clenched. 'They done what to him? Ya gonna pay for this, Rick.' He sneered the last word, his voice dripping contempt. 'If he never gets over it...'

'Now, now. I know ya upset – we jus' gotta all pull together and help him get through this...'

'Back off.' Michonne had slid out her katana from its sheath and put it out as a barrier between the two men.

'This ain't over.' Merle snarled. 'I'm gonna...'

'STOP!'

They turned round back to the fire – the source of the sound. It was Daryl. He was standing up now and trembling, the blanket Maggie had wrapped around him half-falling off his shrunken frame.

But it was he who had spoken and there was a sharp awareness in his eyes that hadn't been there since they got him back.

Rick felt a renewed surge of hope as he and Merle stood off and Michonne dropped her sword.

'He's right.' She said. 'Your brother's the most important thing, Merle.' She said. 'Let's concentrate on him.'

They went back to the campfire. Merle tried to tentatively touch Daryl but he leaned away from him.

'He don't let anyone touch him.' Rick said in explanation to the older Dixon's hurt expression.

He whispered to Merle: 'What they did...'

But Daryl heard as he whipped his head round suddenly in fury. 'Stop tallkin' 'bout me like I ain't there!' He snapped.

'Sorry.' Rick mumbled but nevertheless, was glad to see the fire back in his eyes again.

But over the next nights by the campfire, Merle inched closer and closer to his brother. Started off by gently stroking his hair, tucking the loose, greasy strands behind his ears. Brushing the rest back. Daryl shrugged his hand off the first couple of nights but now to Rick's surprise, he was allowing it. Even closed his eyes in relaxation.

Michonne raised her eyebrows at him and Merle smirked at her knowingly when Daryl eventually rested his head on his brother's shoulder. But his smirk soon died when he pushed things to far when he tried to put an arm around him because Daryl cried out 'No!' and shoved him away. Hard. Got up then and stomped back to their tent, leaving Merle nonplussed and an awkwardness in the air in his wake.

Merle knew then he had to tread carefully with the boy. If what Rick and the others said was true... He'd have to treat Daryl with care. Like after he had with Tammy after she'd been kidnapped by the Razors. Give her her power back. But he'd made sure that they'd felt his wrath.

Same as he was going to do to those animals who had despoiled his baby brother.

But first, he had to bring Daryl back.

He knew that the most important thing was to give back Daryl the sense of power and control over his body that they'd viciously ripped away from him. For Merle not to do anything against his will – not even hold him like Merle was aching to do since he found out what had been done to him.

Over the next through nights, Merle had progressed to holding his brother when Daryl eventually let the arms he trusted most in the world around him. The older Dixon instinctively knew that he badly needed physical comfort, touching that was 'safe'. Gradually the deer-in-the-headlights faded from Daryl's eyes and he stopped trembling even when it wasn't cold. He'd even started to eat again when none of them could coax him to take a little food when his brother set a plate in front of him.

'Eat.' He ordered him. Daryl began to shake his head, turned his head away from the bowl of squirrel stew. Merle firmly but gently guided his face back to it.

'N...No.' Daryl turned his face away.

Merle stroked his hair. 'Come on. Ya gotta eat Ya look jus' like a skinny scarecrow..'

Daryl finally nodded, bent his head down and ate a few bites before he put it down again. Still not enough but at least it was better than nothing. His stomach had shrunk into a small, tight ball.

'Good .' Merle praised him. 'Good. Ya can eat a little more tomorrow.' Before he put his arm around his little brother and drew him to him. Daryl let him and started to close his eyes.

Even if Rick didn't like the older Dixon, thought him hard and callous, he had to admit that he was able to bring Daryl back, knew how to handle him.

Rick would have expected Merle to just bully him better but he didn't do that.

It wasn't like he was spying on them but he stopped when he heard Merle's voice coming from inside their tent. Low and earnest.

'Tell me what he said to ya, little brother.'

Daryl whimpered.

'He...He said he had ya, Merle and that he was gonna kill everybody in the prison and that he was gonna kill ya...if...I ... or I ...didn't and ...I believed 'im, Merle... I mean I knew it wasn't true but ...I...' He was stammering now.

'It's OK, Daryl. I'm here now. Ain't ever gonna leave my baby brother ever again. Whatever he wants to do.'

'He used to tell all the things they were doin' to ya, really sick things and how ya cried and begged for mercy but I didn't ever believe 'im, Merle. I never did! Never!'

'Sh...sh...I know ya never did. It's OK.'

'Tell Merle now what he did to little baby Darlena.' Merle coaxed, addressing his baby brother by that nickname he used to tease him normally. 'Merle ain't important.'

'They.' His brother whispered. 'They...M...Merle...They...they...Oh, God, Merle...it hurt..'

Rick heard Merle's sharp intake of breath. He shook his own head too – Daryl hadn't spoken much about what they'd done to him much outside his sleep. Heard a rustling sound as he presumably moved closer to his distressed brother.

'More than one?' He probed gently.

'Yeah.' Daryl started gabbling and Rick couldn't understand his words. Merle felt sickened that now they knew for sure that it hadn't just been the Governor.

'Come here, sweet boy.' Merle said to him softly. 'Come to Ole Merle.' The ex-cop imagined him urging Daryl into his arms and soothing him like they'd seen him do. 'Did they hurt ya? Did they hurt baby Darlena?' He crooned to him in disbelief. And that was when Daryl started to cry. Broken down by the tenderness in his brother's words as much as his gentle tone.

Finally broken down by love and gentleness. The last surge to break the dam and release the flood.

'The sick fucks.' Merle snarled in rage through his brother's sobs. 'I'm gonna make them beg for death time I'm through with them.' He promised savagely.

On the eighth night since his brother came back and after a half a bottle of vodka that Merle had been feeding him, Daryl began to tell them what had happened to him at the hands of the Governor in more detail.

Haltingly, with pauses where it seemed he couldn't get the words out or find the right words to express himself while sheltering in the safety of his big brother's arms tight around him.

When he choked up and tears came into his eyes, Merle would stroke his hair or rock him. And whisper encouragement in his ears.

Everyone stared at this in shock – nobody had expected the rude, crude older Dixon to be like this with his baby brother.

Nobody had expected Merle to love.

Still, Rick could tell that Herschel wasn't happy with his daughters hearing this. Especially Maggie, with her own run-in with the Woodbury leader still raw. And he had to admit, he didn't want Carl to be there either.

But if Daryl was brave enough to tell, they would have to be brave enough to listen.


	2. Chapter 2

Merle was plunging his hands into Daryl's hair while his brother sat, head down, shivering in the tub. Even though it wasn't even cold – a typical late Georgian Spring.Washing his baby brother – old style, away from the prying eyes of the camp.  
He'd persuaded Daryl – sick of seeing his greasy, lank hair, his stink. His stubble that Merle had recently razored away. Took him by the hand like they were children again and brought Daryl here, unresisting. To get clean, out in the fresh hair.  
Had he even washed since they rescued him? Why hadn't someone showered him, cleaned him up? He felt another burst of anger towards the group and Rick, who'd not only allowed his baby brother to be used, abused and broken but had abandoned him to his fate. 

After all he'd done for them.

Merle lathered the shampoo in his hands before a final rinse with clean water from one of the metal pails on the ground beside the tub. The water was cold but that didn't matter, the sun was rising and the day was growing warmer.  
'Stand up.' He ordered Daryl quietly. He obeyed without murmur but when Merle tried to pull down his boxers – the piece of clothing he'd insisted on keeping on- Daryl grabbed his hands.  
'No.' He said. Not normally shy around his big brother but then Merle didn't know that they'd stripped him roughly and laughed at the scars on his back from their father. Mocked the size of his manhood before they started to roughly grope him.  
Daryl could hear their jeering laughter now. When Merle tried to remove his underwear, 'Thought ya'd be big like ya brother.' Even in his terror, he'd wondered how they knew how big Merle was. Or were they just bluffing? 'Who whipped ya? Was it ya Daddy?' They'd asked. 'Because ya were bad?  
Merle rolled his eyes. 'Come on. It's only me. Not like I ain't seen it before.' He tried again.  
'Don't.' His brother shoved his hands away his words coming out now more like a plea.  
'OK, OK.' Merle sighed, raising his hands in surrender. 'Keep them on then. But ya gonna change all ya clothes when we get back.'  
Daryl nodded obediently and slumped back down in the tub. Leaned back in relaxation and closed his eyes when his brother started to massage his neck and shoulders with the soapy sponge. Merle smirked smugly. While he was doing it, he paused now and then to trace the raised, bumpy lines of scar tissue lovingly with his finger – just above the skin's surface so that his brother didn't know what he was doing. He sighed, whispering into his brother's ear, 'Ya so beautiful, baby brother. Ain't no-one who could take that away from ya, not him, not them. No matter what the sick fucks do.'  
When he mentioned 'him' and 'them', Daryl started trembling more violently than before as he let out a low whimper and Merle kicked himself. Daryl was getting better, the boy was tough and healed fast but he wasn't that better yet. So, instead of scolding him for being a pusssy like he would have done in the past, he shushed him. Tucked back his hair behind his ears. Stroked his back, letting his fingers glide over the scars lightly.

I'm the only one he let's touch him. None of the others. He grinned to himself. Daryl's mine again. Mine! He hated what had happened to him, he'd have died willingly if it had meant that his baby brother would have been spared what they did to him in Woodbury but this was the one good thing to come out of his ordeal. Daryl only trusted his big brother now. Had become distant towards even Rick and Glenn.  
'Ya only trust me, don't ya, baby brother? Ya know that nobody is ever gonna be able to understand ya or love ya as much as I do.'  
Daryl didn't answer but sighed in contentment as Merle's hands worked their magic, ironing out all the aches and pains from his tense muscles. As they moved lower and lower down his body. Who in the group would have expected Merle to be good at massage? They didn't know but he'd learnt a few tricks in prison.  
The older Dixon was gratified to see that damn shaking stop.  
'Only Merle can make ya feel this good. Ya know I can.'  
Daryl gave small, weak smile and nodded without speaking or opening his eyes. It wamed his brother's heart to see it.  
After a while, when the water was getting cold and Daryl's skin was puckering, Merle decided it was time for him to get out of the bath. Besides, he was started to tremble again but this time with cold.  
He held the towel he'd been warming on a sun-warmed rock to him. 'Come on. I promise I won't look, ya little girl.' He smirked but true to his word, turned his head away as Daryl pulled down the dirty boxers and stepped out of them, leaving them lying on the ground. Merle wrapped him up in the warm towel then and used it as an excuse to embrace him. Holding onto him a bit longer than necessary because he was enjoying this closeness. Because it was just like when he'd used to give his brother a bath when they were kids because Mama was passed out or whatever.  
He held him like that, pinning Daryl's arms to his sides until he started to thrash around and panic crept into his eyes.  
'Let go of me you fag. I ain't a baby.'  
Merle laughed and released him. Glad to see him get some of the fire back in his eyes.  
'At least ya don't stink like a pigshit now, little brother.' He teased.  
Daryl secured the towel around his waist, picked up the dirty boxers in one hand and gave his brother a playful shove. 'Who says you always smell like you just fell into a bed of roses? Ya stink even when ya just washed.'

That night, while Daryl was stumblingly telling his story with his big brother's arms tight around him, Rick forced himself and everyone else to listen. He felt sick with guilt and pity even though Daryl was deliberately being sparing with the gritty details but their minds filled in  
whatever he didn't say.  
The worst thing was that they had left him behind unknowingly. It was all his fault because he hadn't been able to persuade Daryl to stay – couldn't fight the hold his big brother had over him.  
Blood was blood and the group were nothing against that bond. Yet, Rick had seen how they younger man appeared to visibly shrink in his brother's shadow.  
And the way Merle touched him, spoke to him made the leader's skin crawl. Something about it...but he couldn't put his finger on it. Even though it was clear that Merle deeply loved and cared about Daryl. Besides, he knew that as soon as he could, Merle would be plotting how to get Daryl away from them so that he could have his little brother all to himself.  
Rick vowed he wouldn't let him.  
When Daryl became more or less incoherent as he swigged more and more from the vodka bottle, the tears and snot streaming down his face, Merle decided it was enough. Embarrassed for him, he'd got him up and dragged him back to their tent. Rick watched them go with a deep frown of concern written on his face.  
He turned to the others, many of them who were crying now but hadn't in front of the hunter out of respect for him – Maggie, Carol, Beth and even Glenn. They knew how Daryl hated people to feel sorry for him.  
He wanted to say something hopeful, comforting but he didn't know what because the truth was, there wasn't anything he could say. It had happened to Daryl and nothing they could do could undo it. He couldn't erase the feeling of collective guilt they shared that they'd unwittingly left him behind either.  
They could only help him heal.  
Worse – he was sure that Merle would use their terrible mistake to persuade his brother to leave them once and for all.

Merle got his sobbing brother into the tent. Stroked his hair soothingly and put one arm around him until Daryl leaned into him and finally calmed down enough to sleep.  
'Let's get ya into bed.' He pulled he's shoes off just like he was a child again, and arranged the covers around him. He only needed a couple of light ones – the warm sleeping-bag for camping would have been too much this weather.  
Daryl wasn't long in falling asleep. Merle hoped that he wouldn't have too much of a throbbing headache when he woke up. Or be mortified that he'd told them too much about what had happened.  
When he was safely sleeping, Merle gazed down at his face. Daryl's skin was smooth, the lines less visible. He looked at peace with the world, boyishly young even.  
Merle leaned forward to breathe in his brother's scent. It was like his own – musky.  
It reminded him of their father and unwanted memories threatened to crowd his mind. Mainly of that bastard's heavy body pinning him down – he'd had the same scent as theirs only always mixed with whiskey or beer – whatever he had decided to drink that day.  
'Fuck off.' Merle growled. 'I ain't nothin' like ya. I never hurt him.'  
And it seemed like he could hear their Daddy in his head, laughing that bitter, dark laugh of his. Mocking Merle's pathetic attempt to lie to himself.

He reached down and kissed his brother's forehead lingeringly. Drew back after and listened to Daryl's breathing and when he was satisfied that he wasn't going to wake up, laid a quick peck on his brother's lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- Warnings – this chapter gets extremely dark. It may even shock and disgust you. It's a Merle POV after all!
> 
> What are Merle's true motives when it comes to his baby brother and what is the secret that lies between them? Why is Rick creeped out by the way he touches Daryl? Most importantly, can the younger Dixon move on from what he endured at Woodbury?

Mere hated seeing his tough, formerly bad-ass baby brother looking so vulnerable and fragile, scared of his own shadow and at times he wanted to grab him by the throat and shake him back to the way he was. Every flinch, cringe or whimper – (well he'd always been highly-strung, how their father had treated him hadn't helped - but not like this) grated on him making him clench his fists to stop him from beating him down for being a little pussy. But he couldn't hurt Daryl more than he'd already been hurt and he hated and blamed the group for what they'd let happen to him. Yet he admitted that part of him also enjoyed how much Daryl needed him when he was this broken. How his baby brother looked up to him like when they were kids when Merle had been his whole world. Had to be with their drunk, dumbfuck parents. Part of Merle relished taking care of him, in some ways, he knew he was treating him like a child again. Daryl clung to him and him alone, those big blue eyes wide pleading with him silently to make it all better. 

Make it all go away. 

Make it like it had never have happened.

But as much as he wanted to turn back time, Merle couldn't. All he could do was hold him close and whisper sweet lies into his ear that everything was going to be OK.  
It wasn't like Merle didn't have experience of this kind of thing. When Tammy came back – bruised and battered, her long, dark hair dishevelled, clothes ripped after she'd disappeared for days, the 100 yard stare in her eyes, the same look Daryl had in his eyes but less often now, he'd known immediately what had happened to her. He'd been searching for her, at the back of his mind he always knew that she'd been taken for his drugs debts.  
When they dumped her off, she'd been half-drugged. Dazed.  
Crazed. Barely decent. Clothes filthy, ripped and torn. She'd stunk of sex, booze, fags and blood.  
Don't forget terror. The scent of fear hung heavily about her like it always would from then on, no matter how much Merle tried to take it away.  
They'd taken the only thing – second to Daryl – that he'd cared about. Given her back to him like that - ruined, shattered. Driven off like cowards before he could confront them. Didn't matter – he knew who they were. Worse than if they'd just killed her so that he didn't have to look at how she'd been punished for him.  
Now someone else -this time his baby brother no less – was paying for Merle, again. The Governor knew he was Merle's brother – he'd ordered them to fight to the death after all– brother against brother before they'd escaped the first time. Daryl initially unnerved and trembling from the feral calls for his blood from the Woodbury mob braying around them. Hyperventilating like he always did when things got too much for him. Nevertheless, after they ripped the sack of his face and undid his bonds but then he'd steeled himself and got himself into fighting mode pretty quickly.  
The sick bastard's only one regret was probably that Merle hadn't been there to see his baby brother's degradation. Merle knew that if he could, he would have used Daryl as bait to lure Merle back to pay for what he saw as his betrayal.  
He'd tried to put his arms around her, 'Come here, baby. What did they do?'. He'd embraced her only gently- gentle for him- but she'd still gasped in fear and he'd immediately let her go. Fear of him? Yeah – he knew he was pretty intimidating but he'd never hurt a woman before except with his barbed tongue. Memories of Mama's black eyes and purple and yellowing bruises covering her legs had always held him back - he'd never wanted to be like their father.Well - he never hurt them unless they wanted it – believe it, some of them did like her. Tammy had been one of those who enjoyed it rough. Very fucking rough. He'd given her a few scrapes and bruises but then he'd always come off worse – no blow had been to low for her in the throes of passion. That's one of the reasons he had loved her – her fire, her thirst for new experiences, her lack of fear. But now all she had – was consumed with was by fear no matter how much Merle tried to take her terror away. In the end, he'd done the only thing he could and gone and made the rapists pay.  
So she'd finally feel safe.  
But Tammy was never the same again, remained always broken and it had taken weeks after before she'd even let him touch her. He didn't know why he stayed so long – normally he would have got of there before, not put up with that but instead he stayed. He could always see the cracks in her. And she'd been the only woman he'd loved.  
But Daryl was strong, he told himself. A Dixon. Tough. He'd get through this with the right handling.  
The similarities between his brother's and his dead girlfriend's fates were ironic really – even if Daryl was a man. All because of Merle. He nearly laughed out loud bitterly at the irony of it all.  
Daryl didn't know about Tammy or the other girls. Him and Merle hadn't shared much about the times when they'd been separated.  
He wondered dully whether Daryl had ever had a woman or even got laid with one. The boy used to get into a panic and shied away from anyone who touched him- except for his brother. Even when someone merely brushed past him or laid an innocent hand on his shoulder, his breathing would get ragged and he'd squirm away. Merle knew he'd always been skittish but even his brother's reactions seemed on the extreme side. Nevertheless, he hadn't wanted to dwell on the reasons for Daryl's reluctance to being touched. But before Woodbury, he'd been getting better. Smirking back at him when he sensed Merle's jealously whenever Rick slung a brotherly arm around his shoulders and Daryl let it stay! Or Carol – the horny old bitch - touched his arm or hand and he didn't flinch back!  
Was Daryl doing it just to rile him up? Show him that the wasn't the only one in his life anymore?

Now, he'd only just got his brother back but it wasn't his baby brother any more and he'd have given anything to have that exasperating Daryl back – mocking him for his anger when he saw how he allowed the others to touch them. Not everyone though – only a select few from the group. Instead of this shadow of what he used to be.

He hated those men who had reduced his little brother to this and he vowed that as soon as he could leave Daryl, he was going to make every one of those bastards suffer. Fuck them to death and rip their limbs from their bodies if he could. Drag it out –long and slow that they felt every bit of pain they'd inflicted on Daryl ten times over. His brother had already told him some of their names – they hadn't cared because the Governor was going to kill him once he'd used him all up until there was nothing left.Not even a reaction or a moan of pain or a whimper of protest - just an empty shell with dead eyes like Merle had dispassionately watched many other prisoners become. No use to the Governor – without their suffering, he didn't get off on them so well. But luckily Rick and the others had stumbled on Daryl before that happened. While they were trying to rescue that blonde bitch Andrea.  
The boy had lasted five days of that torture – he was strong. His baby brother was tough and he felt pride well up at how long Daryl had survived. He knew that they would have been going at him day and night – if he was lucky, they'd allow him a couple of hours to rest. Gave him the bare minimum of food and water and the occasional toilet break.  
But Merle knew that the bastard would have enjoyed his baby brother more than the others – Daryl had that effect on predators. Like their Daddy, for example. There was something sweet and fragile about the boy that turned them on despite his obvious toughness – Daryl's inner beauty was his curse. It was more enduring and endearing than mere physical good looks. Which his brother had too, he thought, looking down at his sleeping brother admiringly. Ran his forefinger lightly down his brother's back, just grazing the scarred skin as his slept so that he wouldn't wake up, whispering to him.  
'So fuckin' beautiful – inside and out, brother. No wonder he – they - wanted ya.' Merle shuddered. 'Poor baby Darlena. Did the bad men hurt ya real bad?' He crooned sympathetically to him like he was addressing a child. Despite himself, he was getting aroused at the thought of Daryl being held down and violated, fucked in his mouth, his ass – maybe two at the same time back there. Semen from multiple men leaking out of him everywhere. Their hands all over him while he squirmed, trying to escape their rough groping when he'd gone in there already with his aversion to harmless, every day physical contact from strangers. Merle groaned at the vision. Did he cry? No, he would never have cried – Merle corrected himself, no matter what the bastards did to him. Only Merle could have brought him to tears afterwards, knowing how badly Daryl needed to let them out. Would he have whimpered? Probably but he would never have begged for mercy. But he would have fought back as much as he could. Until they beat him down and finally ovewhelmed him. He would have fought like a Dixon. Like Merle had taught him to fight. He hoped that he had killed at least one of them before they tied him down and gagged him. Would he have come? Had he moaned, or cried out, his muscles spasming despite himself as they forced orgasm after orgasm out of him with the pain? Daryl hadn't told him the full details – they'd drugged him and his recollection was fuzzy in some places. No doubt, though he would have done some of his torturers damage – lashed out with his foot and broken a nose or bit one of his rapist's cocks off...  
Merle moaned quietly, he was getting hard at the fantasy of his brother's violation without even touching himself, at where his imagination was taking him. He shook his head and tried to calm himself down. Looked down at his bulging erection. He was either going to leave the tent for a cold shower or undo his pants and take care of himself. Even with his little brother sleeping nearby – the main star in his jerk-off gang- rape fantasy. Thoughts couldn't hurt Daryl, could they? He wouldn't even be touching him. Because he'd joined in the gang-rapes himself, men and women with Tammy's face in his mind all the time. 'How could you?' She was saying. 'When you know what they did to me?' But he'd shut her bruised and battered image out of his mind when he got down and dirty- fucking some unfortunate against their will. And no, Merle didn't indulge in rape under normal circumstances – he may be an asshole but he wasn't that sick but something about the Governor – something about the pack mentality of the men under him had driven him on. And he couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed it. The sick fuck had found out the darkness inside of Merle from their Daddy that had always been close to the surface and brought it out into the light to give it full reign. Like he did with most people. Most people had some darkness in them and the bastard knew how to use it. No - Merle couldn't even use the drugs and alcohol as an excuse. They had merely helped him to see the victims as nothing, nobodies. Once they were prisoners, they were as good as dead anyway. If they had any sense, they'd be begging for death.  
He was a sick fuck. No better than the fucking Governor but at least he'd left him. If Daryl knew the things he'd done...had enjoyed doing...but all these memories that should have horrified him, filled him with remorse and regret were making him horny...  
Merle was about to unzip his pants and get his hard dick out, he'd still refrained from touching himself with great difficulty and his breathing almost coming in pants now. But then he looked over at his brother lying next to him like an accusation. If he knew how Merle had done those things in Woodbury, things his baby brother would never have stooped to – Daryl would despise him forever. He was smart – he probably knew or at least suspected. But he'd never asked Merle if he'd participated in the gang-rapes on the Governor's orders.  
His arousal died as he ripped his hand away from his flies at this thought.  
He wasn't asking him now but that didn't mean he wouldn't demand answers later. Daryl knew he'd been the Governor's second man.  
A short time after – enough time anyway for Merle's hard-one to shrink, he didn't want Daryl to see, the younger Dixon stirred beside him. 'M...Merle...'. He looked up at him, those blue eyes wide, those full, red lips trembling that those bastards must have found so irresistable. Making Merle feel another surge of impotent rage and hatred for those animals who had defiled him. The sweet boy's first thought when he woke was for his big brother, of course. Merle had to stop the thoughts and impulses kaleidoscoping around his head when he saw him like that – hair mussed from sleep, disorientated and looking more vulnerable and younger than ever.  
The side he had usually only allowed Merle to see. But since the rapes...  
Instead, bringing himself under control, Merle brushed the loose hair back off his baby brother's face with one hand, one side gently after the other.  
'Come here.' He told him before Daryl went to him willingly enough, burying his face in his chest as Merle wrapped his arms around him.  
'They don't care about ya.' He whispered to his younger brother as he rocked him back and forth in a soothing rhythm. 'Ya know that, don't ya? To them, ya jus' a piece of throw-away redneck trash, like me that's why they weren't even lookin' for ya. It's only me who really cares about ya. Understands ya.'  
He landed a kiss on his cheek near his ear.  
'Yeah, we all know how ya show you care.' Daryl suddenly snarled, words muffled into his chest with bitter sarcasm, sounding like his old self but still not looking up at him.  
'What's that supposed to mean?' Merle tightened his arms about his him.  
'It means get the fuck off me.' He growled back, fighting to free himself from his brother.  
Merle released him. 'Well, well.' He mocked. 'Got ya balls back in ya pants at last, baby brother?'. But inside,he concealed an icy chill went through him . Did Daryl remember? Was that the reason for the sudden turn around?  
'Fuck you.' Daryl eye-balled him mercilessly, his expression stony hard, unreadable. 'Ya tryin' to drive a wedge between me and Rick and the others? Ya no better. Ya left me behind for years and ya my brother. My family. They didn't know where I was, thought I was with you. What's ya excuse?'  
Merle found that he was uncharacteristically struck speechless with no comeback as his brother brusehd past him almost rudely and got out of the tent. Strode with angry, purposeful steps towards the camp. Followed by anxious calls, 'Daryl, ya OK?' and 'Where ya goin'?'.  
Even 'Did Merle upset ya?' coming from the older and sexier Greene bitch who would always hate him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was a bit heavy-going, very dark even though it was just Merle's thoughts and imagination but that's bad enough! Whatever his subconscious does, it's not the same as doing it for real and Merle does clearly love and care for Daryl who needs him now more than ever.
> 
> Here's a bit more background, anyway with a different character and Daryl. I hope that it's eventually a bit lighter than the last chapter because Merle's head is a very dark and scary place to walk around in. 
> 
> Enjoy!

i.  
Glenn

The dream about the young boy – about 11 or 12 with brown hair and piercing blue eyes woke him up. The boy was crying, sitting on the step of the porch of the rickety wooden house near the woods. Dead squirrels and other small animalswere hung up from its overhanging roof, swinging from side to side in the breeze.He had his head bowed in his lap and his shoulders were shaking silently with sobs. That didn't matter – Glenn had seen his black eyes and the long bruise in the shape of a large handprint along his jaw. His shirt was ripped too at the front. One or two buttons hanging off by their threads. Glenn knew that his skin under the shirt was riddled with burn marks from cigarettes and even from the hot stove where The Man had forced him to lean against its hot surface after he made him strip down to his waist.  
Somehow Glenn knew he was the boy but the boy was also someone else too. Someone familiar – he and him at the same time. That's why he felt they boy's hurt - his body was also throbbing with pain from various places.  
Both the boy/Glenn looked up, startled when The Man bellowed from inside the house, through the open door. 'Come here, boy! I ain't finished with ya yet!' Glenn felt his head turn reluctantly back in that direction. His hands to care to wipe away any trace of tears – although of course his eyes were red. More cause for punishment. 'Ya cryin', boy? Git over 'ere, ya fuckin' little pussy!'. Was about to get up slowly – delaying the moment when he would be punished again. But the voice yelled again, 'I ain't tellin' ya again, boy! Ya drag it out and it's only gonna be worse!' This time, dangerous impatience was added to the fury in its tone causing the boy/Glenn to tremble even more fiercely now, as he got up shakily to his feet.   
Glenn woke up, sniffling with wet eyes and grabbing for the pillows, the pain suddenly gone while Maggie stirred beside him but didn't wake up. However, she did instinctively tighten her hold around him where they lay snuggled together. He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Maybe he could just ignore the dream but the boy's sobbing kept nagging at the back of his head, slowly becoming more and more unbearable like a drill boring a hole in his skull. It never stopped.  
Who was he kidding? He knew who it was and he also knew that wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight until he comforted the boy and made him stop crying. He thought dazedly, still less than half awake.

Make the boy stop sobbing in his head. If he could. But how? And he couldn't leave Maggie – what if she woke up and he wasn't there? She wouldn't panic at first – would probably only think he'd gone to use the bathroom behind the small door opposite but when he didn't come back...when she couldn't hear him....She'd think Walkers had got into the tower or that something had happened to him...

He tried to cover his ears with the pillow to block out the sound coming from inside his own head. At least he thought that's where it was coming from but the boy wouldn't stop his weeping.  
'Daryl...Shut up!' He hissed but the boy only cried louder behind his eyes.  
Was he going crazy? Why couldn't Maggie hear it? Why didn't she wake up? The increasingly panicky weepy sounds only got louder and louder until they seemed to reverberate off the walls. But she only murmured contently in her sleep – apparently she wasn't having nightmares about boys with black-eyes and torn shirts crying.

Right, that's it! He got up as quickly but quietly as he could, gently disengaging his wife's arm from around him and sighed with relief when she didn't wake up. Laid her arm back gently on the bed, gave her the pillow to cuddle instead of him. She accepted it easily and pulled it closer to her with a sigh of contentment. 'Be back soon.' He whispered, looking at her lying there. Looking so beautiful with her face bathed in moonlight. Like a fairy-queen....and he was tempted to kiss her full lips once more before he left.  
He heard the Dixons' laughter in his head then. Daryl's brother had always laughed at him for his slushy romanticism, even Daryl hadn't been beneath cracking a joke at the two love-birds. Daryl's sarcastic laughter was a welcome change from the endless weeping but it didn't last of course as the boy-Daryl started up that relentless crying again. Like a hammer lightly tapping his skull from the inside but there was no pain. This time even more urgently than before, prompting Glenn to whisper, 'I'm coming, Daryl! I'm coming! Hold on!' He hurriedly scribbled a note and left it for Maggie if she woke up and found the bed empty. He wrote a bland lie – of course – how could he tell her the truth? She'd think he was crazy.  
But right now his friend needed him more than her after everything he'd been through. She'd understand if she could believe it – he knew she would. She cared about Daryl too even if she'd never forgiven his brother.   
He grabbed his coat and ran down the stairs. Made his way over to the cell where he knew they were keeping Daryl. The first night he'd been back from Woodbury after Herschel had cleaned him up and checked him over. Given him something mild to calm him down and help him sleep. He didn't need much in his exhaustion. Was there anyone with him? Because he sensed that the last thing that Daryl wanted was to be alone but the others didn't understand! That even though he pushed them all away, he was terrified of having to face the memories and the tormenting voices in head by himself.

ii.  
Glenn

'How long's he been like this?' He turned on them – Rick, Herschel and Carol, standing outside Daryl's cell. The door was closed but they all could hear his sounds of distress that he was making in his sleep. Moaning and sobbing. They could hear him thrashing around on his bed and Glenn wondered that he didn't fall out onto the floor. Making the same noise Glenn had heard in his head in the tower and he wondered how that was possible. But he had just known and therefore, wasn't surprised.   
But the others were as they stared at him.  
'An hour – an hour and a half.'  
'What! And you just let him?' The Asian boy's voice rose in anger and disbelief at how they were neglecting his friend.   
Glenn rounded on Herschel next. 'Why don't ya give him something stronger to put him out?'  
The old man looked at him apologetically. 'We know they drugged him, don't know what they gave him though or how much and he couldn't tell us....I only gave him the mildest sedative in the lowest dose...to lower the risk. Drug interactions can be dangerous. I can't risk a big dose for at least another 48 hours at least.'  
Rick turned to him questioningly. 'Why ya here?'  
'He woke me up.'  
The leader furrowed his brows in confusion...and the other two looked baffled and Glenn brushed it off because he didn't really want to have to explain something that didn't make sense to him, even. And Daryl's moans of 'No, no, no, get the fuck off me!'   
He changed the subject instead. 'Ya jus' standin' out here? Why don't ya go in there?'  
'You know what he's like...he won't appreciate anyone in there with 'im, touchin' 'im after what they did.' Rick justified while Glenn looked at Carol like he couldn't believe it of her. 'Why didn't you go in – you're a woman, not a man- no threat and he trusts you.' He attacked her accusingly.  
Tears came into her eyes...'Glenn...later on, he didn't know any of us. He jus' saw the men who....who...' She broke down herself, rubbing her temples and Rick put his arm comfortingly around her. She leaned into his touch and sniffed, trying to get her emotions back under control.  
He realised then that they were suffering too and punishing themselves by making themselves stand outside his room and listen to his cries. To assauge their guilt. Worse - now, Daryl was calling for Merle but nobody knew where his brother was. Glenn secretly wondered if the older Dixon would be any help – he didn't think the brash, crude and insensitive redneck could help Daryl get over it. Probably he wouldn't want to tell his older brother and who could blame him? Glenn didn't like Merle not least because of what he'd done to him and Maggie. He prayed that he'd never come back – not only for their sake but for Daryl's sake. He would only end up damaging him even more – hell - would probably mock him for being a fag and wanting it in his insensitive attempts to bully him better. Glenn shivered at the thought . But Daryl obviously wanted his brother – that's why he was calling for him so insistently now.  
'I can't stand this. Maybe you all can, listening to him but I can't. Glenn glared round at them, uncharacteristically aggressive in defence of his fallen friend. 'I'm going in there.'   
'I don't think that's a good idea, son. Let's jus' let him tire himself out...' Herschel warned. 'He'll stop eventually...'  
Rick put a restraining hand against his chest to try and stop him going into the cell. 'He's right, Glenn. Ya'll scare 'im and he'll lash out. He's fragile psychologically but physically – ya know he could kill ya easily if he felt threatened. He's dangerous even after being half-starved and dehydrated. That's why...'  
'Dangerous?' Glenn scoffed, adding, 'Get off me.' Not letting him finish his sentence as he brushed past him rudely.  
'Glenn... I gotta tell ya somethin'...warn ya...' Herschel called after him but Glenn ignored him as he tore open the door. Wished he'd listened to the animal doctor at the sight that greeted his eyes.  
They let him go but followed him in to the room.  
'What did you do to him!' His voice rose in a fury they'd never seen before in the mild-mannered teen as he glared round at them and Rick was afraid that he wake up the muttering Dixon who had tears leaking down his cheeks from the eye-lids.Well, that wasn't quite true – Rick had seen him react like that to Merle in defence of Maggie when they'd freed the Dixons from Woodbury – from the forced death-fight.   
It seemed there was a lot more to the guy than most people gave him credit for.

…..

iii.

Glenn rushed to Daryl's bedside to undo the velcro hand and foot restraints which had been presumably reserved for violent or mentally disturbed prisoners. No-one tried to stop him, just looked at him shamefacedly. The hunter didn't wake up but continued to moan and mutter and weep.  
'Did you know about this?' He lashed out, facing Carol.  
She sighed. 'Herschel didn't want to do it but it was for his own good...He was lashing out, thrashing around, wouldn't stay still...even after Herschel gave him the mild sedative. We couldn't put an IV into him because of it....He kept trying to get out of bed...'  
'Don't want to hear it.' Glenn hissed. 'Get out! All of you just get out!'  
'I don't think ya should be doin' that, son.' Herschel protested weakly as Glen undid the last foot strap.  
'See!' He turned around. He's not trying to get out, he's not being violent. Just get out, all of you!'  
Herschel tried one last time. 'But ...ya a man, son. And when he wakes up, he's gonna feel threatened...he'll associate you with the men at Woodbury....'  
'I know what I'm doing. Get out!'  
They left reluctantly. 'But we'll be jus' outside the door incase he...gets upset.' Rick reassured.  
'Don't bother.' Glenn replied coldly. 'He won't.'   
They closed the door behind them and Glenn was surprised how easy it was to convince them. Or maybe they were just waiting for someone to come who had the guts to deal with Daryl. Who cared enough about him.   
That was it, probably.  
Cowards. He thought. No matter Daryl had been distressed, tied up like that. He'd been chained up when they found him. He was still crying and moaning, varying his short repertoire, ''No, no, no, get the fuck off me!' He'd command or worse - more pitifully, 'Please, don't make me. I won't fuckin' do it!' or 'Don't touch me!' mixed with cries for his brother. 'Merle, Merle, please!'. Over and over again. It was a wonder that his voice wasn't hoarse. All the time, tears were sliding down his cheeks from his eye-lids and he was trembling, or more like shaking. Now that his limbs were free, he curled up into a ball on his side, kicking off the scratchy prison blankets. Glenn was pleased to see that he'd had a shower and a change of clothes – pyjamas no doubt that one of the others lent him – Dixons don't do nightwear. But he still didn't wake up or stop his moans or his words or his weeping. Still shaking. Sweating too – Glenn could see the shiny sheen on his face.  
…...

Glenn remembered when they found him. In the stinking cell, handcuffed loosely to a chain fixed to the wall. Just giving him enough range but not enough. Naked, covered in blood, cuts and bruises, filth and ...other substances. Too broken down to even try to cover himself up.  
Stinking of sex, piss, faeces, filth and...other substances. He was trembling with cold and fear.

'What the fuck...?' Rick had muttered. All of them instinctively covered up their nose and mouth with their clothes to ward off the stench.   
'What did they do to him?' Maggie and Andrea, despite her own battered and weak condition, burst into tears when they saw him but looked away at the next to spare his dignity. Rick had clearly been shaken. He was bruised and battered – clearly unable to recognise them, staring at him blankly. No doubt thinking that they were the Governor's men come to haul him before him again.  
They saw him clench his fists and snarl ready to fight. He was still not beaten down, not going easily.   
'Looks like they did everythin'.' Rick answered shakily, looking everywhere but down at Daryl. 'Come on, let's get him.'  
Luckily, the ex-cop had some experience of dealing with this kind of thing – victims of assault and other trauma like traffic accidents. 'Get him a blanket!' He ordered to them over his shoulder.  
'Where's the key?' 

Maggie handed it to him – the big bunch they'd got from one of the guards they'd taken out when they'd rescued Andrea. They were all hoping that one of them would fit. He approached his former second-in-command warily. Daryl lunged forward as far as his chains would allow, baring his teeth.   
He was getting ready to bite, looking less like a feral wolf than a man. Not caring about or unaware of his nakedness in front of the women.  
Glenn moved forward too but Rick waved him back. 'Let me. Don't want to overwhelm him with too many people at once.  
'Daryl.' Rick addressed him softly, not daring to get within his range until he'd made him recognise them and realise that they were going to rescue him. He was the professional – he had to get through to Daryl.   
Daryl just snarled in reply, no words.  
'Oh Jesus, Jesus!' Rick ignored Andrea's wailing in the background. 'Can he still talk?'  
'Daryl.' The ex-cop repeated softly. 'It's me Rick and here is Glenn. You remember them, don't ya?' He deliberately didn't mention the women, Michonne unlike the others hadn't turned away. Was staring intently at the Dixon, unabashed at his nakedness and swaying to and fro on her feet. Backing up the leader because even chained up, he was a considerable threat. He could still use his teeth and looked like he was more than ready to sink them into Rick. He used them on the guards when they'd first begun to torture him.   
Something glimmered in Daryl's eyes but then it sank beneath the surface of his murky blue eyes, out of sight.  
'Come on, Daryl. You remember us.'  
'Rick?' Something had snapped inside him then and Daryl looked up at him. Eyes full of human intelligence.  
'Daryl...we ain't got time. Ya gotta come with us...now.'   
Finally sure that it was safe to, Rick got down to Daryl's level, to appear less threatening and took his face into his hands. Of course, Daryl jerked away despite Rick crooning to him, 'It's OK. It's me, Rick. We're gonna get you outta here.' The prisoner seemed to have visibly shrunk and always having been lean but muscular, Rick could swear he could count every rib now. His face was sunken and his terror-filled eyes, too big for his thin face . His goose-pimpled skin was covered in more shallow cuts as if someone had been torturing him with a knife to deliberately complement the old ones on his back. Along with the almost invisible childhood knife scars on his chest that he never wanted anyone to see.   
Daryl had merely started shaking as he looked down at the filthy concrete floor, not meeting anyone's eyes in shame. And Rick found he couldn't blame him as he looked down on him in overwhelming disgust that he was unable to suppress that he tried not to show on his face. But he eventually went limp, allowing Rick to fumble with the keys until he found the right one.   
'We haven't got time for this.' Glenn looked back at the interrogation door anxiously. All around them they could hear sounds of chaos, screaming, weapon fire.   
Maggie had handed him the blanket and they'd looked away as he discreetly wrapped it around him. It easily fully concealed his wasted frame. He seemed to recognise them now but strangely, seemed reluctant to leave.  
'Can't leave....can never leave 'im. He says he'll kill everybody in the prison if I try to leave...if I fight back.' He looked up at him then, tentative hope in his eyes while he shook with terror and his chest heaved rapidly as he breathed shallow breaths in and out. His eyes darting around, here and there in panic as if expecting his tormentors to come out of the very walls, the dim corners.   
Rick was trying to be patient but it was difficult even though he really didn't want to traumatise him further.  
'Please....please don't make me..people'll get hurt...he's got Merle and he's gonna kill 'im...Think about Carl and Judith, Rick. Carol...Beth...Herschell... ' The Dixon's voice was wavering as he pleaded with Rick and his eyes filled with terror but focused on something else. Somewhere else. He broke down then and started to sob for his brother.He sounded so pitifully young.  
'Daryl...The Governor's dead and he never had Merle. Don't ya think he would have enjoyed using you more against each other in his sick games if he had?' Michonne piped up. Daryl seemed to believe her calm tone and dried his tears. 'He was just messing with your head.' She added and he nodded. His eyes widened as he realised that it was obvious and under normal circumstances he would have come to the same conclusion. It was obvious. If he hadn't been so worn down and exhausted, physically as well as psychologically. He didn't even care at that moment that he'd broken down and cried for Merle in front of them when everybody knows that Dixons don't cry. He felt shame and self-disgust at how they'd found him – why couldn't it have just been Rick or better- his brother?   
'We killed 'im. Ya don't have to be afraid of 'im no more.' Maggie turned back to him now that he was kind of decent.  
The Dixon bristled at that and snarled back, sounding much more like himself, 'Ain't scared of that sick fuck or his men. Should'a been me to put the sick bastard down.' Glenn and Maggie exchanged looks at the deliberate contradiction to his earlier words. At the sharp turnaround. 'Who was it?'  
'Good. Then let's go.' Rick turned without answering his question, leading the way. 'Can ya walk?'  
Daryl snarled 'yes' and nodded but it turned out that he had to reluctantly accept help from the young couple either side of him because Rick needed to scout the way ahead and make sure it was clear. Michonne had to support Andrea who was too weak to walk unaided.   
'Fuck.' The Dixon growled in frustration at the weakness in his body after days of virtual starvation and minimal drinking-water.  
Luckily, the way was clear back to their truck. It seemed like the citizens of Woodbury were no longer concerned with them now that their Beloved Leader was dead. His henchmen who had survived were probably busy elsewhere. Fighting for their lives against the enraged citizens who didn't agree with their former Master's methods.  
All around they heard gunfire and screams. Woodbury was burning – who had set the fires – they didn't know.

Woodbury was finished.  
It was over. But not for everyone.

iii  
Glenn

Glenn looked down at him, not sure what to do. Daryl hadn't liked being touched before and now he'd also apparently had physical contact and sexual acts forced upon him as well.  
What do I do if he wakes up and attacks me because he doesn't recognise me? He nearly chickened out then and left the room.   
He do this – he'd do this for his friend when none of Daryl's so-called family would even risk their necks. Just because they didn't have the courage to deal with him.

Mainly he was too painful to look at and reminded them of how easily they'd let him go. Let his brother take him without a fight. 

'Daryl?' Glenn whispered, hoping to wake him but he realised that he was too drugged up for that.Wanted to ask him for permission but he never opened his eyes but they were streaming tears down his face. The front of his striped pyjama top was soaking wet from them and a mixture of sweat. He'd been weeping for hours, it looked like.   
'I'm going to get in the bed with you, that OK?' Glenn felt he should ask but Daryl kept right on mumbling, didn't react.  
'It's not like that, you know I don't like you like that, don't you? ' He joked. 'I'm a married man now. Shame you missed the wedding. I bet Merle would have really enjoyed the free booze and food.'  
Glenn felt foolish as he chuckled at his own lame jokes as he drew back the covers and drew them back over them but Daryl had fallen silent, after sighing deeply before he resumed whimpering and moaning again to himself.   
'Was wondering how the two of us were going to fit in this tiny cot – but you've lost weight and I'm small so I can just about squeeze in, I guess.' Daryl sighed again and fell silent. Glenn was right- just having someone there he trusted talking to him in his sleep appeared to soothe him. The others had been wrong or maybe Glenn was the right person who Daryl could trust. He was small and skinny, probably the least threatening of all the men. As if to confirm his thoughts, he heard the footsteps of those holding vigil outside the door die away.  
'See – they didn't need to tie you up. You're OK.' Glenn was gratified to hear the younger Dixon's quiet snores as he finally fell into a restful sleep.   
He turned his back to him and tried to fall asleep until he was woken up what felt like moments later. Daryl was thrashing around, his eyes closed. 'Don't! Don't! Get off me.' He pleaded.  
Glenn grabbed his arms, tried to hold him still in his grip but the Dixon proved too strong for him and was soon free again.   
'Sh...sh...'  
'No!' Daryl screamed. 'Daddy – don't do that - it hurts!'   
Daddy? Daryl was dreaming about his Daddy? Not the Governor? The people closest to him knew about his abusive childhood although he never spoke about it.   
Daryl continued to scream and moan, tears streaming down his face. Now he was crying for his brother again, 'Merle! Merle!'. Getting louder.  
'DARYL!' Glenn was afraid that the others would rush in if he kept it up for much longer and he'd have to admit they were right and he really hated to do that. What he hated even more, however, was the thought of them restraining Daryl again. He couldn't believe they had done that.  
'IT'S ME, GLENN!' He whispered as loudly as he could into his ear without waking the others if Daryl hadn't already done that.  
Daryl opened his eyes then but looked through him and Glenn gasped in surprise. But the hunter was looking through him like he was seeing a ghost when Glenn thought he'd recognised him at first.   
'Merle?' He asked so tentatively hopefully. 'That you, Merle?' Sounding like the young boy he must have been once. The bruised and battered and burned young boy in Glenn's dream who wasn't Glenn but somehow was and also Daryl at the same time. He realised that somehow, he'd seen a mere glimpse of the hunter's childhood – that it was a memory rather than a mere dream.  
Glenn considered telling him the truth but his tone was so wistful, he really was missing his big brother and he didn't seem to see Glenn there at all.   
'Yes, it's me Merle.' He lied. Knowing that his relatively high-pitched voice and his accent couldn't be more different fromt the older Dixon's gravelly Southern drawl.   
Daryl sighed with relief at that, shut his eyes and curled into him. Rested his head against Glenn's chest and fell silent. 'They hurt me, Merle. Hurt me real bad.' He shuddered then and sounded on the verge of tears again as he mumbled this into Glenn's side. 'After...they finished...with me, they...they... pissed on me and ...and ...did other things all over me.' He started to sob then, making the teenager felt like his heart was breaking for his friend who was speaking more delicately about painful subjects than he would have expected from a Dixon. He could feel him shaking against him. Glenn tried his best to think of what Merle would say in this situation but honestly – couldn't think of anything.   
'Sh...sh. Ya safe, ya safe. I've got you now.' But he was thinking: Fuck! What do I do now? He thinks I'm his brother but it seems to calm him down. Do I try and comfort him? What would Merle do?  
He tried gripping his arms to still him but that was obviously was the wrong thing to do as Daryl bucked and immediately jerked out of hold. Idiot! Glenn cursed himself. He'd seen bruises there where they must have pinned him down.  
'Sh...sh...Sorry.' He whispered. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'  
Daryl snorted as if he didn't believe anyone could hurt him but he did relax again. Yet, he still didn't wake up.   
Glenn couldn't for the life of him imagine Merle comforting anybody. So he did what Glenn would do. Put his arms loosely around him, giving him plenty of room to move so that he didn't feel trapped or pinned down. Stroked his hair with one hand. Did Merle ever stroke Daryl's hair? Glenn didn't think so. Yet, it felt nice, cuddling up with the normally fierce and physically unapproachable hunter like he'd always wanted but had never been allowed to. Nevertheless, he could tell that Daryl liked what he did even in his sleep because he made a pleased sound in his throat.Snuggled closer to him when he did that and his breathing became regular.

What if he wakes up and finds me here in bed with him in the morning? Panics...and kills me? Herschell said that he would have problems trusting any man – even us he knows – at first.   
Even though he could snap my neck like a twig under normal circumstances.  
Glenn hadn't needed to worry, he did eventually doze off and seeing Daryl sleeping peacefully before dawn broke and no danger of nightmares or bad childhood memories resurfacing, he gently disengaged himself from him. So that he barely noticed in his sleep. Got out of bed and went back to the tower. Got back in bed and cuddled up with Maggie instead. Luckily, she hadn't woken up and noticed his absence.

So both sides were happy and he smiled as he fell asleep, the horror of the condtion they'd found Daryl in and what had happened to him fading a little from his mind.

He also knew that they had to get Merle back- even though he was the last living person on Earth that he and Maggie ever wanted to see again.They'd do it for Daryl because instinctively, he knew that Merle could help his brother get over Woodbury. Glenn made a note to tell Rick when he woke up to Maggie hitting him over the head with a pillow, laughing 'Wake up, Lazy Bones!'. Maybe she would even want to make love before breakfast like they often did. He always slept longer than her – well, he teased her - he was the one who was still a teenager. She'd slap him back playfully for that.  
But then probably she wouldn't- nobody would be in a cheerful mood because of what had happened to Daryl. 

Nevertheless, for the first time since they'd rescued Daryl 24 hours ago, Glenn felt hope.


	5. Chapter 5

i.

Glenn

The second night, he would sneak off, leaving a note for Maggie explaining that Daryl needed him and crawl into the Dixon's bed. Glenn felt guilty for leaving his wife but it wasn't like he was cheating on her and while she would never forgive his brother, he knew that she cared about him. After all, she'd cried when they'd found him and would do anything to help him. She'd understand, he told himself.  
Herschel told him that he was worse at night – he'd toss and turn – dreaming about his father or those men. During the day he dozed, kept drugged by Herschel.  
'How long are you going to be keep him drugged up like that?' Glenn asked the vet.   
'Until he's calm and his wounds heal up some.'  
Carol was feeding him what they could and make sure he drank water when the sedatives began to wear off and he was semi-conscious.  
So Glenn slipped in, just to keep him company. Daryl was already tossing and turning, muttering. 'Don't. Get the fuck off me...I ain't doin' it...I'm gonna fuckin' end ya.' He snarled viciously and Glenn couldn't tell if he was dreaming of his Daddy or those men but at least he wasn't moaning or crying. Sounded stronger, almost like his normal self. 'Don't touch me!'  
But then he whimpered. 'Daddy! No!' Tears started leaking down from his closed eyelids.   
'Sh...Sh.' He bent down to stroke his hair.  
'No! No!...Get off me.' Glen immediately jerked his hand away. 'Daddy, don't.' He pleaded.  
'It's OK, it's OK...' Glenn got in the narrow cot with him, 'I'm here.' He whispered and put his arms around him, carefully making sure that he didn't pin him down or restrict his movements in any way because that seemed to set off the panic. 'Sh...sh...It's OK...It's OK..' He soothed but curious, he gently lifted up the other man's shirt - no striped pyjamas this time - with one hand and saw the cuts and bruises healing there.   
'Sick bastards.' He hissed in shock, hoping Daryl didn't hear his outraged outburst though he'd been there when they rescued him and he knew about them already. Glenn gently tugged the shirt back down again. The Dixon seemed to sense his presence, even in his sleep and it seemed to start to calm him down.  
'Merle?' The Dixon's voice was soft, wistful this time.  
'Yeah, it's me, Merle.' Glenn lied. 'I got you.'  
Daryl growled ferally but then sighed shudderingly and went limp.  
Glenn held him and moved his hand through his hair until he settled down.

 

It was kind of cosy like sharing a bed with a sibling when you were young. Reminded Glenn of getting into bed with his older sister when he had bad dreams – when he was four or five. He felt that pang of grief then because he didn't know where she was or even if she was still alive even though he had a wife now. Zoe'd been working in Atlanta but then the city had been one of the first Southern cities to fall. After a time, the teenager fell asleep himself.  
….

Shortly after, he woke up with a start. Found himself pinned to the bed, someone's hands around his throat. Squeezing.  
'D...Daryl....' He instinctively started scrabbling at the choking fingers.   
The Dixon shook his head and the burning rage began to fade from his eyes.  
Glenn felt like he was on the verge of blacking out as the other held him down in a grip of iron.  
'Please....I can't breathe.'   
The older man let him go with a grunt. Seemed to come back to himself, shook his head. 'Sorry.' He apologised gruffly like he wasn't used to saying the word. 'Thought ya were...' He shuddered. 'It don't matter now more. But what the fuck ya doin' in here, anyways?'  
'You were....were....' Glenn gasped, trying to get his breath back.   
Daryl snorted. 'What?' His tone dangerous warning the other to be careful.  
'Nightmares.'  
Daryl dropped his gaze. Glenn touched his arm. He let it stay.  
'You didn't want to be alone.' He tried to explain.  
'Go back to sleep.' The Dixon ordered and turned his back to him and closed his eyes. 'And don't keep me awake with ya snorin' like a fuckin' steam-train.' Unseen by Glenn, a small smile played around his lips.  
At least he didn't order me to go. Maybe he was glad of the company and not worried that we look like homosexuals. Glenn was glad that he let him stay but he knew that as soon as his friend was safely asleep, he was going to go back to his wife. But Glenn didn't know that when Daryl asleep again there were no more bad dreams. In fact he dreamt a comforting one of running in the meadow with his brother when they were boys. Merle giving him a headstart until he caught up with him and bowled him over. Tickling his belly until he cried for mercy.   
'I'm coming back for ya, Little Darlena. Know ya in trouble.' Merle whispered in his ear, his unshaved cheek tickling his ear until Daryl squirmed against him and he laughed. 'And I ain't ever leavin' ya again, baby brother.' 

….

ii.

Merle

Later, after he came back and found his little brother again, Merle wish it had been him. He knew he could have taken it – whatever the sick fucks had done to him. But Daryl – it wasn't like he was weak or anything – in fact, he was one of the strongest men Merle had ever known. Yet it wasn't like he would have known how to deal with it. At least Merle had fucked a man before - he was pretty sure that Daryl hadn't. Merle didn't see himself as gay or even bi - a fuck was just a fuck and in prison, it had just been a matter of necessity.  
And before....? The question loomed large and ugly in the forefront of his mind. But he shoved it away.  
He didn't allow himself to dwell on the past.   
Merle hated how fragile his baby brother looked. His blue eyes huge and haunted and far too big for his face, looking up at him from his chest where his big brother was cradling him. As usual of late, he had both arms wrapped around him protectively.  
Merle kissed the top of his hair. Let his arms rub the top of Daryl's in soothing circles until he felt him slump against him. Feeling him relax, he kept his hands were they were, doing the same thing. After a while, he lowered them slightly, towards his elbows but still rubbing his arms in the same circular pattern.   
Lower and lower until his hands were hovering hip-height over the belt of Daryl's pants.   
Merle hesitated, not quite daring to do what he longed for even with Daryl practically comatose in bliss, eyes closed in tranquility.  
Clearly, his little brother trusted him.   
Slowly, very slowly Merle reached under his brother's shirt to caress the skin on his stomach. To feel the rough scars under his fingertips made there long ago by their Daddy's knife. Told himself he only wanted to feel them. Same ones he had on him.  
Got him thinking about the more recent scars from him and the other sick fucks, making him clench his teeth. They'd taunted and tormented him about their Daddy and what he'd done to him – Merle could just see them do it. He vowed that he was going to hunt them all down and make them pay.  
Daryl apparently wasn't that relaxed because he jerked awake immediately. Grabbed his brother's hands and ripped them away from him. Like he was the devil.  
'What the fuck, Merle!' He leapt up. 'What the fuck ya doin'?'  
'Nothin', sweet brother.'  
'Ya touchin' me again? What the fuck's wrong with ya?'  
'I didn't do nothin'. Calm the fuck down.'  
'Ya as sick as he was.'   
Now fully awake and having been rudely ripped from his trance where he didn't have to think about those men, the Governor or his Daddy – in fact, he hadn't thought about anything at all. Not while Merle was touching him, making him feel safe – well, safe most times.   
He rounded furiously on his brother because something had been nagging at him and he needed to know.   
'They said...when they...they were....'  
'What did they say, baby brother? Ya know they were probably jus' fuckin' with ya head, don't ya?'  
'Did you ...fuck the prisoners too? Men and.... women?'  
'What? Ya askin' me if I joined in rapin' them?' Merle laughed but it sounded fake even to his ears. He reached out to drag his brother back down to him.  
'Ya did, didn't ya?' Now Daryl was trembling and fighting to get out of his arms. 'Get the fuck off me...Ya no better than them.'  
Merle shook his head mournfully and let him go. 'I swear on Mama's grave, I didn't do none of that shit...'  
'Ya one sick fuck for lyin' on her grave. Ya think I'm an idiot?'  
'OK.' Merle shrugged his shoulders. 'I did somethings I ain't proud of. But they would have turned on me if I hadn't.'  
'Ya a sick motherfucker, bro. Rick's right for not wantin' you here among decent folks.'  
'Ya tellin' me ya wouldn't have, if ya had been in my place?'  
'No, I fuckin' wouldn't have!' Daryl yelled in his face and stormed out the tent.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Merle's secret and will Daryl ever forgive him for the things he did at Woodbury? Should he forgive him?

Merle had flinched inwardly but his smug smile hid it at the contempt and disgust with which Daryl had regarded him. He knew what he'd done was despicable but it wasn't like he would act like that normally. Just the pack mentality of the Governor's men had taken him over momentarily. So he reasoned with himself.  
Desperate to make things right again, he cornered his brother at the makeshift canteen tent.  
Put his hand on his arm but Daryl violently shrugged it off. 'Get off me. Ya disgustin'.'  
'Ya gonna tell the others?' He hissed in reply, looking around nervously. 'Ya want me to leave, that it?'  
Daryl looked down. 'What do ya think I am? Think I want everyone to know what my brother did? They'd look down on us even more than they already do!' Some of the group turned around to look at the raised voices but it wasn't like seeing the Dixons fighting wasn't a frequent sight.  
'Keep ya fuckin' voice down.'  
Daryl started to stalk off back into the forest, obviously wanting time alone to eat and apparently wanting to get away from his big brother. He was already scooping up the deer stew in one spoon and shovelling it into his mouth rapidly ase he walked.  
Merle followed him even when his brother turned around and glared at him but he didn't tell him to go away.  
'Glad to see ya got ya appetite back, little brother.'  
Daryl gave him a filthy look but didn't say anything.  
When they were out of earshot and sight of the others who probably just assumed that they were going off hunting or to work out their differences, Daryl threw down his empty bowl and rounded on him.  
'Ya sick, ya know that? If ya had been high and not...not recognised me, ya would have ….have ….joined in, wouldn't ya? Don't deny it, ya sick fuck.'  
'Look, Daryl, I never did that before. Never hurt a woman before I met him. Never even fuckin' killed no-one before this whole thing went down.'  
'You and Dad always called me a pussy but ya know – ya the biggest pussy of 'em all. Couldn't say ''No''...'  
Merle's eyes filled with a dark rage and old pain as he grabbed his brother by the throat and slammed him hard against the tree. 'They would have killed me or worse – made me into their slut if I had refused. Didn't have no choice was outnumbered. 'Sides, ya don't know nothin' 'bout it. What I fuckin' did for ya when we were kids.' He abruptly changed the subject.  
Daryl rolled his eyes as he struggled to get free. Merle had him by the throat but he wasn't choking him.  
'Not this again. Ya didn't do nothin' for me.'  
'At least they were fuckin' adults!'  
Daryl stopped struggling. 'What?'  
'I fuckin' wasn't!' Merle screamed, going red.  
'What the fuck ya talkin' about, Merle?' Daryl was getting worried now. Thinking maybe it was just his brother fucking with his head as usual. Trying to make him feel sorry for him and take him back.  
'He...he...did it to me instead of you.' Daryl thought he was dreaming when he heard the tremble in his brother's voice.  
'What?'  
'Dad.' Merle's mouth twisted as he answered quietly.  
'Ya fuckin' lyin', get off me.' Merle released him and took a few steps back. 'That's the sickest thing to come outta ya mouth yet, ya twisted asshole.'  
'No...it's true. Didn't ever want to tell ya this. But he never touched ya, did he?'  
'No, of course not! He was a violent bastard but he wasn't perverted.'  
Merle smiled with relief . 'Well, he was with me. Always wondered about ya – how ya nearly jump outta ya skin if someone so much as brushes ya arm. But none of it matters 'cos I did save ya after all.'  
Daryl managed to get free. 'Don't fuckin' believe ya. Ya jus' sayin' this to make me feel sorry for ya so I forgive you. Even if ya tellin' the truth, knowin' what ya did, ya still left me with him?...Yeah, right.'  
'I didn't had no choice. I was gonna kill him....or he kill me. Just had to hope the bastard kept his promise – was a Dixon after all.'  
Daryl stared at the single tear that was making its way down one of his brother's cheeks. Since when did Merle cry? Merle never cried. Daryl had never seen him shed one tear, not even at Mama's funeral and it terrified him. That single bead of moisture clinched it for him and he believed Merle as he reached out to to rub it away gently with his thumb and bowed his own head.  
'How old?' Daryl's voice was dull, not looking up.  
'Look...ya weren't ever supposed to know...'  
'I asked 'How old!'' Daryl snapped.  
'Don't remember 'zactly. Maybe 11...or...12 'til 15...16. 'Till I got big enough to fight him off.'  
'Fuck!' Daryl slid down the tree and crouched down, wrapping his arms around his knees, hunched over. Trembling not for himself this time but his brother.  
'And Mama never knew?' He asked shakily.  
'Don't think so. He did it when she weren't around.Was a sly bastard. I did it for you, little brother. 'Cos he said if I didn't let him, he'd do it to you instead.That's how much I fuckin' love ya.'  
'No...no..Not for me!' Daryl screamed, shaking his head. 'Why you and not me?'  
Merle crouched down, got on eye-level with him. Eyes hard and glittering.  
'Look at ya, Darlena. Still more fucked-up than me.' He tried to joke, diffuse the tension. Laugh it off.  
Daryl gave him a hard shove, nearly knocking him over backwards but his next words were full of tears.  
'Ya knew what it felt like then. Still don't make it right what ya did.' He pressed his forehead into his knees. What had happened in Woodbury was still raw although he felt day by day that he was getting a grip on the memories. But now – his brother's revelation – no – all of his revelations just wore him down again as his shoulders started to shake. The thought of his brother going through what he'd endured from the Governor for mere days for years and when he was just a kid and at the hands of their own father was too much for him.  
Despite his determination to never forgive Merle, Daryl found that he couldn't stop trembling and his breath hitching in his chest when he thought about how he must have suffered. Unbidden, other memories he'd suppressed started to come to the surface. Things he'd forgotten and had been to young to piece together at the time. Stumbling on their father and his brother in the bath together – when he got up to pee - their dad guiltily getting off from on top of him even though Merle had been a teenager – at least 13 or 14.  
Other stuff – like seeing his brother's bloody underwear on his floor and how Merle had often winced slightly when he sat down after a 'punishment'. Daryl had just assumed he'd just been spanked hard on the ass.  
'Ya cryin' for me, baby brother?'  
'No! Fuck you, why would I cry for a perverted piece of shit like you?' Daryl lashed out at him viciously.  
Yet another unbidden recollection of Dad fondling Merle discreetly – one hand down his flies while his brother stared straight ahead at the TV like nothing was happening. Daryl must have only been about 4 or 5 at that time – their Daddy must have felt safe because he was too young to understand what was going on. Also, Mama was upstairs having one of her baths with a large glass of wine which they knew always took her at least a couple of hours.  
He shook his head, wondering how many of the resurfaced memories were true.  
He feared - all of them and there were many more to come. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle suddenly coming together to form a picture the more pieces you had down.  
'What happened to ya ain't an excuse for ya doin' it to others.'  
Daryl was pretty sure he hadn't tried that shit with him. Pretty sure – considering he knew sometimes people repressed memories for years.  
But then he suddenly softened. 'O God, Merle – I'm remembering all this shit about you and him...'When the sobs started to rip through his body and he couldn't hold them back any longer, he said quietly, 'I ...I ...do believe ya,...brother.' That's when Merle knew that he had forgiven him. In fact, it proved that Daryl would forgive him anything and even though it was Merle who should be crying but couldn't, he wrapped his arms around his baby brother. Stroked his hair and drew him to him after only a little initial resistance. So Daryl cried for him instead and Merle comforted him.  
'Never wanted ya to know, baby brother. Didn't want ya to have to carry around my shit, too.' Merle kissed his tears away before pressing his lips to his forehead. 'Don't cry for me I ain't worth it. Ya know what I did under that psycho. But I did everythin' to protect ya, little Darlena and it still happened to ya just 'cos this fuckin' worthless world ended. Nothin's changed. Not for people like us.'  
'Ain't true, Merle.' Daryl's breath hitched as he managed to rein his emotions back in. Looked up at him with such innocent hope. 'People like us got another chance. Jus' gotta get along with the group, is all.'  
'Ya were always the sweet one. Don't know what I did all those years without ya.'  
Merle kissed the top of his brother's head because he was so relieved that Daryl still loved him and wanted him around, despite the despicable things he'd done that he was willing to do anything for him.  
Anything. He'd change for his baby brother. Become a better man. A good man.  
'I'll do anythin' to make up for it. Ya know, when I make myself remember what I did – I feel like shit. Like he took the worst out of me and left nothin' left. Not that I'm makin' excuses, mind – layin' it all on him but the Governor had a knack for bringing out the worst in people.'  
Daryl nodded – remembering the ordinary townspeople baying for his and Merle's blood like some starving pack of wolves. 'I'll do anythin' - even try to get along with those assholes ya seem to like so much.' His brother continued.  
'Don't fuckin' call them that.' Daryl punched his arm – only half-playfully this time.  
'Come on.' He told Merle.'We got go and get their dinner if ya still serious about getting' along with them. 'Ya'd be surprised how more understandin' and forgivin' people become once they got their bellies full.' Daryl slung his crossbow over his back and his big brother followed him into the undergrowth.

.


	7. Chapter 7

i.  
Glenn

It was six weeks since they'd rescued Daryl and day by day, they could see him getting slowly better. A long way off yet from where he'd been before, yet he was flinching less, eating more – Merle hardly ever needed to coax him to eat a full plate now. The nightmares and bad dreams came less frequently now and Herschel marvelled that he was apparently recovering from his ordeal so quickly. Even though Glenn would never forgive Merle for delivering Maggie to the Governor, even if he forgave him, and the older Dixon was creepy as hell, they'd all been surprised how he took over taking care of Daryl. Seemed somehow to be making him better, speeding up the healing process. So they tolerated Merle for Daryl's sake. Glenn missed comforting Daryl at night, he'd told Maggie what he'd done and she'd smiled, letting him know that she understood. Besides, he'd always been back in the morning when she woke up and she'd been none the wiser.  
Maggie had said that she hoped that Merle would go after Daryl's attackers – if they were still alive somewhere after they burnt down Woodbury and killed the Governor and get himself killed. But he'd replied, 'What about Daryl?'.  
She'd shrugged, 'We don't know what the bastard did in Woodbury, remember he was second in command to that psycho, probably joined in raping the prisoners too.'  
'We don't know that for sure.' He found himself defending Daryl's brother for some inexplicable reason.  
'You on Merle's side?' She asked incredously. 'After what he did to me? To us?'  
'I'm not on anyone's side! I just want what's best for Daryl. And you would too, if you really cared about him.'  
That got her and she drew back. 'Of course, I do.'  
'Well, just put up with Merle. He never bothers us and Daryl says he's sorry and wants to make up for everything.'  
'Uh OK. And what if he's a threat? You seen the way he is with Daryl – it gives me the creeps! It's like ….like...' She shuddered, unable to put her thought into words.  
'Well, he was held and gang-raped for days! Of course, he's gonna be different with him after that. Besides, that's their business. Daryl can handle him and we need them to protect the group.' Glenn told her. 'Time to put our differences aside.'

ii.

It was dinner round the campfire – the Dixons had caught a deer that day so everyone filled up on venison stew. Daryl was yawning because the Dixons had been up before the crack of dawn to track the big buck, when Merle whispered 'Let's go. I got a treat to cheer ya up back in our tent' in his ear. Daryl gave a small smile that cheered his brother to see as he pushed Merle's arms away from him where they were wrapped around him protectively as usual since the rapes and got to his feet. ''Night, folks.' He said and the others returned his greeting. Merle grinned around at everybody but got no response before he followed his brother back to their tent.  
'Lookee, what I got.' Merle drew out the big bottle of handmade booze once they were inside while Daryl's eyes lit up at the sight of it.'Didn't want to share with the rest of the group – all the more for us, hey, little brother?'  
'No, guess not.' Daryl turned away but Merle smirked. Knew his brother was playing hard to get with the booze.  
'If ya want it, baby boy, ya gonna have to come and get it.'  
'Fuck off. I ain't no alcoholic like him.' Daryl snarled. 'Can go without.'  
Merle chuckled at the mind games they were playing. 'Suit yaself.' He unscrewed it and tantalisingly slowly, tipped it into his mouth. 'Mmmm....Fuck – some good moonshine, bro. Might even make me go blind. Would ya like that? ' He laughed.  
Daryl had turned his back to him stubbornly but Merle could see he was cracking. They hadn't had a decent drink for months.  
'Ooh...what a kick. This is the real stuff, Darlena! Sure ya don't want some?'  
'Give it 'ere.' Merle smirked as Daryl grabbed the bottle and ripped it from him. Put his arm around his little brother as he gulped down large swallows of the stuff.  
'Careful – don't choke yaself.' Merle took the bottle away from him while Daryl growled. He hadn't nearly finished!  
Merle smoothed back Daryl's hair as he took large swigs before he handed it back to him.  
'Easy.'  
When most of the bottle was gone, Daryl slumped back. 'That was some potent shit.' He sighed but immediately reached for it again.  
'Uh …uh...huh!' Merle told him and teasingly put it out of reach behind him.  
'Fuck ya, Merle. Give it me.'  
Merle laughed and brushed back a stray strand from his baby brother's forehead.  
'Come and get it.'  
'Fuck off!'  
Merle chuckled and beckoned to him with a crook of his finger. Daryl lunged for the bottle but Merle got in his way. They growled and wrestled, somehow without knocking it over and Daryl ended up underneath him.  
Merle saw the fear flicker in his eyes and heard his breath hitch, knowing what memories it must bring back to him being pinned down, he got off him. 'Only playin', little brother, only playin'. '  
'Fuck you.' Daryl snarled, embarrassed about his moment of weakness and lunged at him. The bottle got knocked over, spilling its contents all over the tent floor but neither paid heed to it.  
Before Merle knew it, Daryl was on top of him and pressing his lips to his. Thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Merle moaned and returned the kiss just as hungrily before they drew back for air. 'Wha...what the fuck ya doin', baby brother?' Even though Merle had dreamt of this moment – Daryl making the first move, Daryl willing - ever since he could remember.  
Daryl threw back his head and laughed. 'I seen the way ya been lookin' at me, brother. What ya want but I never gave you. Why ya hold me so tight – ain't jus' cos' of what happened to me..'  
Merle frowned and shook him by the shoulders. 'That's sick. We're brothers.'  
'So? I want it and you want it. Most of all, I want ya to make me forget. Them and what they did.'  
Daryl's mouth twisted and he started to slyly stroke his brother's crotch. 'Please, Merle. Make me forget.'  
'Please. Please.' His pleas and the sweet desperation in his eyes made something in Merle's chest twist – where his heart was. Merle moaned as Daryl kept touching him, teasing him before he took his hand away abruptly.  
'Ya sure ya really want this and it ain't jus' the drink talkin'?' Merle felt he had to make sure first.  
Daryl smirked. Started stripping his clothes off while licking his lips and pouting at his older brother. Merle could hold back no longer as he grabbed him and pushed him to the canvas floor.  
Daryl started struggling and making whimpering sounds and he knew he had changed his mind. Got off him immediately but then he turned himself back onto his back to look up at him and Merle saw that he was laughing! Not scared at all but mocking him! He was excited! He'd been writhing on the floor, not struggling and his whimpers had been of ones of excitement, not fear or pain.  
'What ya waiting for, big brother?' He smirked up at him. Want and fire in his eyes.  
'Right, that's it ya little shit. Ya want it, ya gonna get it.' Merle started to undress him hurriedly, yanking down his pants and underwear before undoing his own flies.  
'Come here.' He grasped him by the hips and pulled him to him. Stroked his back soothingly, not wanting Daryl to suddenly get scared and back out. 'Merle ain't gonna hurt ya, only gonna make ya forget those sick fucks.'  
Daryl trembled -muscles rippling under his skin and Merle hissed. 'Fuck, ya so beautiful. Gonna make ya feel real good, baby brother.' He kissed the back of his neck then, making him whimper and shiver with pleasure. ' I always wanted ya but held back...'  
Daryl grabbed his hand. 'Well, then, what the fuck ya waitin' for?'  
Merle looked around for the small tub of grease that always came handy in these situations before he...

….

Woke up with a shout. Heart thumping in his chest. Nearly knocking over the bottle of illegal booze that still had about a third in it.  
What the fuck? He patted around him and found Daryl who snarled – still half asleep. At least they both had their clothes on which would suggest....Merle didn't finish that thought.  
'Fuck...ya woke me up.' He growled, reluctantly opening his eyes. 'Head's thumpin'.'  
'Jus' a bad dream, little brother. Ain't light yet – go back to sleep.'  
'You have bad dreams?' Daryl cursed him before he turned over, muttering angrily at being disturbed. Merle guessed he was feeling pretty sick from the moonshine – looked like they'd polished off most of it.  
He couldn't get back to sleep and he felt OK besides the sick dream about almost fucking his baby brother and Daryl wanting it, he was horny as hell. He knew he'd have to take care of it – one way or another but he had an idea. He felt like a shit – as sick as their Dad. Maybe the sickness was genetic – inherited, in any case he was glad that Daryl had been spared it.  
He'd done that for him at least.  
Merle slipped out as quietly as he could, not to wake up Daryl and walked briskly. Over to Andrea's tent.  
Knelt down. 'Hi, ya there, sweet cheeks?' He whispered.  
He heard stirring inside and then her tousled, blonde hair appeared, looking at him sleepily.  
'Merle – what the fuck?' She hissed and looked around but everyone else was sleeping deeply apparently. 'Someone might see!' She whispered loudly.  
Fortunately, like their tent, hers was a bit on the edge of the campfield, near the woods and more away from the others. He knew she was an independent woman – had lived in Atlanta before the Walker plague broke out. What would have formally been called 'A high-maintenance' woman– not the type that he or his brother would ever have come across or had a chance in hell of being with during the old days. Before the world ended and everything went to shit.  
He didn't even ask if he could come in, just unzipped the tent and crawled inside. But her cheeks suddenly flushing and the excitement suddenly lighting up her eyes was all the answer he needed.  
'Got an itch.' He told her before she kissed him and her hands started fumbling for his belt. 'Care to scratch it for me?' She chewed on her lower lip but of course he didn't say it was the dream about fucking his own brother that had given him the hard-on.  
'Sh...' She replied. 'How is he? Is he OK with you leaving him alone?'  
'Boy's sleepin'.' Changing the subject, he asked, stopping suddenly, 'They didn't hurt ya, did they? I mean, really hurt ya?' The guilt that suddenly hit him, along with the image of Daryl's disgusted expression full of loathing at the things he'd done that had cut him to shreds made Merle suddenly worried. Had made him more careful about the thorny issue of consent than ever before. He drew back to inspect her face carefully to see her expression while she thought he looked more like Daryl in that moment.  
'Nah. Not like....like …' She realised what she was about to say and hesitated, knowing Daryl's condition was still a raw subject, '...ya brother.' She didn't say that she'd slept with the Governor willingly but then he'd got bored with her when he'd got another eager bed-partner and locked her up. She'd been so humiliated and scared but she planned to keep that little secret from the rest of the group. Philip had obviously given orders for them not to treat her like the other prisoners in general – probably because he still saw her as his but still, they had slapped her around a little. Like she was a favourite toy he'd got bored with but put away carefully in case he wanted to play with her later. Merle hadn't even known she was there – had never seen her. She wondered why he was worrying about that now when he'd never asked her before during their other liasions in secret. He didn't tell her that the nightmare – was it really a nightmare when he'd enjoyed it so much? – had put him in mind of when she'd been a prisoner. What she had endured – still she hadn't seemed in that bad shape when they'd rescued her – only a little bruised and battered, dirty and under-fed. But still in much better condition than his brother.  
'Good.' He kissed her while she wound her arms around his neck. She would take care of his little 'problem', he knew and he'd hold her for a bit before making excuses. He didn't really do the cuddling thing afterwards and it was true when he told her that he had to get back to Daryl. No, he only cuddled his baby brother but only because he was still so fragile, he thought ironically to himself. He couldn't let his Daryl wake up on his own – he'd be scared and panic. Andrea smiled an nodded. She was a good girl – smart too - she understood and she cared about Daryl as well. Everybody did. Not many people could resist his sweet, tough, hardass, vulnerable baby brother once they got to know him.  
Besides, she didn't want the others to find him in her tent either.  
As he made his way back to the tent, he tried to remember how much of the dream had actually happened. The bottle still had some liquor in it – they probably hadn't spilled any. Had he wrestled Daryl to the floor – probably. But the rest? Had Daryl really kissed him? Because he knew sure as hell that he hadn't – wouldn't have made the first move.  
It was a haze and fuzzy in his mind and he couldn't ask his brother. Probably Daryl didn't even remember.  
He snuck back into their tent, they each had their own sleeping bag. As soon as he lay down, he scooted over to where Daryl was muttering in his sleep to put his arms around him so that he'd be holding him when he woke up. Making him feel safe. He was wondering again at his and Andrea's luck – he knew that one day he'd be caught sneaking out of Andrea's tent when he couldn't say that he'd just gone to take a piss.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl woke up, yawning and stretching, shaking off the arms wound tightly around him.  
'Get off me, Merle.' He said but smiled because he liked to wake up with his brother's arms around him, after what had happened at Woodbury, it made him feel safe. Maybe some people in the group didn't understand but Fuck them, he thought to himself.  
'Fuck. Head's thumpin'.'  
'Yeah, what was in that shit ya gave me last night?'  
'No fuckin' idea. Moonshine – who the fuck's knows what's in that shit.'  
'Ya tryin' to poison me?'  
'Come on. Let's go get some breakfast and go huntin'. Fine day out.' Now Merle was yawning and stretching.  
They went to get the porridge dished out by Carol and Maggie. As usual, the older Greene girl refused to serve the older Dixon, just glared at him. 'Still here?'  
'What's it to you, sweetheart? I'm here for my brother.'  
'Don't bring me into this.' Daryl interrupted. 'You got a problem with my brother, ya got a problem with me.' He told her before he turned heel. 'Come on, Merle. Let's get our own breakfast.' He threw his bowl into the bushes.  
'Why did ya have to do that?' Carol rounded on Maggie. 'We can't have one Dixon without the other and besides, I really think Merle is trying to change.'  
'Yeah, right.' Glenn's wife scoffed.  
'You attack his brother, ya jus' end up upsettin' Daryl and he doesn't need it after what he's been through.'  
Maggie blanched at that and looked away guiltily.  
'Why can't ya just be civil and hold your tongue in future!' The older woman continued to harangue her.  
'OK, OK...I can do civil. Don't mean I'm ever going to like that redneck sleazebag...'  
Andrea came bouncing up in gym clothes, blonde ponytail flying. 'Hey, guys, what's up?'  
'Oh, just talking about Merle.' Carol sighed, clearly sick of the subject.  
'Yeah, that traitor. He's a complete creep, comes onto anything female – any woman who goes with him must be a complete brainless whore. Can't believe they're related – Daryl's so sweet – well, except when he's angry.' Maggie ranted.  
Andrea turned her head away as she blushed despite herself. 'Well, I'm going to check the perimeter.' She jogged off in a hurry with her pistol.  
'How about your breakfast?' Carol called after her.  
'Er...I'm not hungry. Maybe catch up with you at lunchtime.' Andrea replied without looking back. She suddenly didn't want breakfast anymore.

ii.

Daryl  
I was raging and fuming about how some people in the group were still treating my brother – OK, I knew he had made mistakes but they weren't perfect, even Maggie and Glenn. I could understand that they didn't trust him but then they had left him handcuffed to a roof to be eaten.  
I sighed as we jogged along, trying to sweat out my frustration. I wondered why we bothered to hunt and protect them sometimes, they were so damn ungrateful.  
'They forget everythin' ya do for them...' I hissed at his back. 'Yeah...somethin' bad happened to Maggie and it was ya fault but ya didn't do it. 'Sides, it was a year ago...why don't they jus' get over it...'  
'Yeah – what he did to her ain't nothin' compared to what happened to you, baby brother.'  
I flinched and he saw. Shrugged his shoulders apologetically. 'Didn't mean to bring all that shit up for ya again.'  
'Yeah, I know.'  
My stomach growled hungrily and I regretted throwing away my breakfast to make a point. It had taken me a while to start to eat regular, full meals again – when I'd been imprisoned, they'd only fed me once a day, if that. Thin, watery soup and a lump of stale bread if I was lucky. Merle said that he had to basically hand-feed me in those first few days, not that I could remember much about it. Now I was ravenous all the time. Herschel said it was my body replacing the food I'd missed out on, like vitamins and stuff now that I was safe again. I'd put on a little weight too.  
'Keep that down, will ya?' My brother hissed at me.  
'Can't control my stomach now, can I?'  
'Shut up otherwise we ain't never gonna catch anything.'  
We went deeper and deeper into the forest, tracking in silence. Saw a couple of stray squirrels but they were too fast – scampered up the tree before I could train my crossbow on them. I cursed at them under my breath.  
Sh...' Merle waved to me a hand-signal to let me know he'd spotted something. Despite myself, my mouth started to water at the thought of cooked breakfast – squirrel or better - a big buck.  
'Come on.' He whispered but as we came into a small clearing in the middle of the forest, we heard voices. Men's voices and ones that I recognised and made my blood turn to ice in my veins.  
I heard their voices in their my head again and shook it to try and clear it. I knew all their names, they were burned into my memory. The fuckers must have escaped the fire, fled like the rats they were from the sinking ship that was Woodbury. Scum like them didn't have loyalty to anyone, not even to each other.  
'Who whipped ya? Was it ya Daddy?...Because ya were bad?' Their laughter then merged into their laughter now. They had a campfire going, roasting a few squirrels just like we intended to.  
'Did he fuck ya like this?' Then the pain and shame. My hands chaffing against the ropes, the tears leaking from eyes and the occasional sob or whimper slipped out from me when I couldn't stop them as the hours went on and on without even a break or a sip of water. They'd taunted me about them too.  
'Look – the slut's crying! Thought you Dixons were tough...ya brother begged for mercy when we fucked him bothways.'  
'No, he didn't! Merle wouldn't!' That was Jones – the most sadistic of them all. He didn't even use lube like the others did at least, pounding into me as hard as he could so I would feel like I was being ripped apart. 'Ya wanna see him? Think the Governor wants to kill him soon, use him in a show tonight and you'll never, ever see him again unless ya please us. But not you, no, he wants to keep ya around.' Then that cruel laughter from all of them. Their greedy hands roughly groping me everywhere even as they fucked me at both ends.  
Merle turned to look at me, icy eyes glittering. - it was obvious, judging by my reaction. 'Sh..' He whispered, tried to lay a hand on my arm but I jerked away. He knew them too. He'd worked with them and done...other things with them but I didn't let myself dwell on them.  
I could hear Mendez's voice, calling me a pretty boy and sleazily stroking my cheek. I'd flinched away but they'd held my head. 'What's the matter, baby? Ain't hurtin' ya.'  
I'd spat in his face. 'Ya put that in my mouth and I'll bite it in half, mother-fucker.' I was glad that I'd got in a few punches, making one of the asshole's nose spurt blood and kicked another in the groin so that he moaned in pain, doubled-over but there were just too many of them. They'd beaten me to the ground for that, knocking me unconscious and I'd woken up, my wrists bound and groaning in pain before I knew where I was.  
He'd laughed at that. 'Hold him down.' Turned to me. 'If ya don't, sweetheart, we'll kill ya brother. Yeah, we got Merle here too.'  
'Liar! Where is he then? Lemme see him, asshole!'  
They'd slashed my inner thighs then with the knife 'to give me more scars.'. I couldn't see them do it – they were forcing my head to look straight ahead and that was the worst thing, never knowing what to expect.  
In the end, I'd submitted but hating myself all the time for it. Because I could never be sure that Merle wasn't their prisoner...Never having sucked another man's dick before, apparently I was quite good because I soon had the bastard moaning and bucking in my mouth. Threatening to choke me.  
And all that was before the Governor gave them permission, the go-ahead for them to do everything they wanted, not just oral. He'd been the worst by far.  
We got behind a tree, getting a grip of the situation. How were were going to take them down.  
I saw that bastard Mendez piss against a tree, then would have been a good time to attack. There were five of them we could see unless there were others not there at the moment – hunting or scouting but we had a feeling this was all of the group. These five rats, Mendez, Jones, Louie – a big black guy who had crushed me with his huge bodyweight so that I felt like I couldn't breathe, Smithy and Valentino.


	9. Chapter 9

i.  
Merle

I glanced over at him, saw that those damn shakes had returned but also the determination in my taunt baby brother's body and I had to admit that I'd hated seeing him so weak. Crying all the time at nothing like a pussy and if he hadn't been held prisoner and gang-raped for days, I would have been ashamed of a Dixon behaving like that. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny that I hadn't taken pleasure in his need for me to comfort him and make him better and the way he'd clung to me like a child. Painful as it had been to see him like that when he'd been flinching at his own shadow, hardly eating, a shivering, skinny shadow of himself. But he'd been getting better since I came back. Then I understood he wasn't trembling with fear now but with rage and this transformation in him came as a welcome change. With it, I felt that familiar thrill of lust when I saw his biceps literally strumming with fury and the need to deal out righteous revenge.  
At least the adrenalin seemed to drive away my throbbing headache from the bootleg booze and I wondered if his hangover was suddenly gone as well. I guess that's what it was but apparently even my dick couldn't forget my baby brother, not even at a time like this when we were facing down our enemies, the sick rapist fucks who had reduced him to that state in the first place.  
He motioned me away to hide even though standing back and watching him take them on all by himself was the last thing I wanted to do because I too, needed to kill he bastards. Torture them nice long and slow first, if we ever got the chance for what they did to him. I wouldn't be so merciful to give those sick fucks an easy death.  
But didn't that make me a hypocrite? I didn't care – not in that moment. Nevertheless, I did as he told me silently to do because I realised that he needed to be the one to do this, he only wanted me to come in as back-up, if needed.  
He sniggered. 'Mendez, told ya I was gonna bite ya bite ya dick in half but maybe I'll settle for jus' killin' ya instead, ya sick fuck. 'Cos ya cock tastes like shit.'  
Even though we might be killed, hearing him talk so dirty and defiant was making me unbelievably hard. Was Daryl even aware of the effect he had on me half the time?  
The Mexican turned in surprise which slowly turned to horror when he realised who my brother was. It took him time to recognise him, not surprising how many prisoners we'd done it too and they wouldn't even remember a victim so beautiful, strong and completely fuckable as my baby brother.  
The bastard opened his mouth in protest, his dick still streaming steaming urine from his open flies onto the woody ground and I had half-expected Daryl to cringe back in fear at the sight, remembering how Mendez had used it to torture him. My brother didn't, a sure sign of how far he'd come and the scumbag only had a chance to stutter 'You...' when Daryl's bolt hit him squarely in the throat, cutting off his voice and his air-supply no doubt as he fell, gurgling and spurting blood from the wound. The idiot was frantically trying to tear it out, didn't he know that this was the sure way to die faster? He fell down, bolt still there as the blood pumped from his artery – the spot Daryl had intended to hit with faultless aim, I knew. Even so, I was thinking that he'd let him die too easy, if it had been the other way round, none of them would have given either of us a quick death.  
The others were slow to react, didn't even notice the fall of their buddy they were so intent on stuffing their faces with the squirrels ready to be taken off the spit, breathing in the delicious smell of roasting meat. My mouth watered – after this was over, we would have a feast after all, we hadn't had any breakfast.  
The others whipped their heads round, one down, four to go.

ii.  
Daryl

I watched Mendez go down for a split second with cold satisfaction. Still, he hadn't been the worst one but bad enough. No sign of booze, no beer bottles – they were sober as a judge apparently and this made my heart glad because when I took them down, I wanted them to recognise me. Know who they'd let ambush them. Although I had my brother covering my back, I wanted to take them all out on my own, if possible.  
'Remember me, ya fat fuck?' I called over. Luckily, I had time to reload my crossbow and hit the next target – Louie, the biggest, straight through the heart. He fell heavily like a sack of potatoes.  
'What the fuck!' ...'Ya killed them!' The others tried to grab their guns but only Smithy had his on him, I could see their weapons lying, tossed carelessly on the ground. 'Nobody move!' I yelled. But they grinned, they knew I didn't have time to put in another bolt into my crossbow and shoot before Smithy at least, could pull his pistol out of his halter and the others could grab their guns.  
Two down, three to go.  
But then they hadn't seen Merle, I sensed that otherwise they wouldn't be so cocky if they knew he was behind me, melted back into the natural scenery. We Dixons were good at that – at camouflage, tracking our prey without being seen. Still, I was quietly confident, certain that their arrogance would be their downfall in overestimating me.  
So, I did what they expected me least to do. I charged, swinging my crossbow side to side at their heads, zigzagging from side to side and Smithy fell to the ground – he was closest to me and the biggest threat before I rushed at Valentino. He'd been an ugly little rat of a man but one dangerous fuck and vicious with it, I shoved the threatening shudder aside at the memory of him licking my cheek like a dog and tracing my cheekbones with his finger. He'd been particularly enthusiastic with the knife, slashing at my inner thighs while the others fucked me, even more than the Jones.  
Three down, two to go.  
Valentino was ready and before I knew it I had him and Jones grappling with me but I fought like an alley-cat, no blow too low as I clawed and bit, trying to knee them in the groin.  
'Remember us, slut? We're gonna fuck ya to death. Always wanted to know if it was possible...but he wouldn't let us...' Jones was whispering to me while I did my best to ignore him. Valentino just laughed at that while I fought the feeling of panic when I felt their hands all over me again, even though they weren't groping me just yet – still seeking a foothold to pin me down. I was drowning in the memories, the past flickering with the present so I thought I was back there for a split second. Even so, I was determined not to cry out for my brother but suddenly Valentino fell, instantly dead from a shot at the back of his head.  
'Shit, Merle! I didn't need ya help! Was takin' care of it!' I yelled over to him in angry frustration.  
'Yeah, looked like it.' He retorted sarcastically.  
Three down, two to go.  
'Merle?' Jones called out in surprise as my brother approached slowly, training his gun on the last bastard left. 'That you, buddy? Do ya know this pretty boy slut we almost fucked to death but didn't get the chance to?' He asked with fake camaraderie as he backed away from me. 'Ya remember all fun we had together, don't ya?'  
'He's my baby brother, ya sick fuck.' Merle growled, ignoring the last question, eyes full of murderous fury.  
Jones tried to backtrack, knew he had made a careless mistake. Started gabbling, 'We didn't know...ya were already gone by then...If we'd known... would never have touched 'im...I swear...'.  
My brother wasn't listening, was narrowing his eyes to take aim.  
'Merle!' I yelled out suddenly. I got my crossbow out, drew it too late because Smithy was getting to his feet behind my brother with his gun on us and smirking even while rubbing his bleeding head. Dealing with Jones, both of us had taken our eyes off him, forgotten about him. Totally out of character for a Dixon.

A fatal mistake.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dark and explicit...goes into more detail about what happened to Daryl at Woodbury. Maybe you'll also see a side to Daryl as well as Merle doing very bad things that may shock you and haunt your dreams....Just warning you....If you're scared, or want to believe Daryl's 100% angel, please don't read!

i.  
Daryl

Jones had made a careless mistake but we had made a fatal mistake.

Three down, two to go.

Well, almost fatal as if by telepathy and right on cue, we lashed out at our enemies backwards.  
Me – I struck back at Jones with my crossbow without even looking so that he fell to the ground, clutching his head. While my brother kicked out backwards, also without looking and with perfect aim, dispossessing Smithy of his weapon. Before he whirled round and kicked him in the head again and again and again and again with his army boots in rage just as he was struggling to his feet. Poor bastard didn't even have time to cry out or groan in pain before his head was a bloody, unrecognisable pulp. Bits of brain and skull fragments everywhere. I saw this out of the corner of my eye – it only took my brother mere seconds to dispatch my former torturer.

For my part, I whirled quickly on my stunned arch- enemy – determined not to make another fatal mistake again. Beat him to the ground with my crossbow but not to kill him, not like Merle had Smithy. No, I wanted Jones alive because he'd been the worst by far. I could still remember the feeling of being ripped apart, that maybe he was going to kill me as he pounded into me without mercy, without even lube not for the first time when I was so sore from all of them already. 'We're gonna see if it's possible to fuck someone to death.' He'd whisper into my ear before he forced his tongue into my mouth – that was when none of the others were occupying it with their dicks. They'd force-fed me drugs a few times – I don't know what but they made me fade in and out of consciousness but still apparently didn't stop me servicing them with my mouth. Somehow the added disorientation added to my terror and pain rather than took away from it. At least Louie, for all his bulk had tried to be gentle, had even tried to get me off – had succeeded a few times but the humiliation of the moans escaping my mouth when he did that were almost worse. Because my body's reaction that I couldn't control incited them to taunts that I was a whore that liked what they were doing to me, 'How do ya rape a whore?' and 'Look, he likes it!'. Those were the worst of all. Yet the big black man would stroke my hair back and whisper 'I'm not gonna hurt ya, fuck, ya so beautiful' in my ear and I even thought he believed it.

I grabbed a coil of rope that was conveniently lying on the ground beside me but yet the fact that it was there at all bothered me for some reason and I tied Jones' hands behind him with it.  
'Come 'ere.' I snarled in the barely conscious man's ear. 'Are there any more of ya?' He stirred but only groaned in reply but got up onto his knees when I pulled him up by his hair.  
'What the fuck ya doin'?' Merle contemptuously kicked at the bloody mess that used to be Valentino's head with disgust, away from him before he checked that his weapon still had bullets in it. Smiled in satisfaction when he clicked it shut. 'Two left, baby brother. Ya wanna do the honours?'  
He aimed it at the the bastard's head.  
But I got in front of the kneeling piece of shit, shielding him. My brother raised his eye-brows in surprise.  
'Ya lost ya mind? What ya protectin' him for? Come on, let's end this.'  
'No. I ain't protectin' him. The opposite in fact.' I stubbornly replied. ''Cos this piece of shit's mine. He was the worst. Get me that water.' I gestured to one of their bottles lying on the ground near him.  
Merle looked at me like I was crazy but didn't say anything as he tossed me the half-empty bottle of mineral water.  
'What ya gonna do?'  
I smirked, didn't bother to reply. Yanked the bastard's head back and threw the water in his face.  
He came to, gasping and spluttering. I drew the knife out of my pocket then and held it to his throat.  
'How many of ya are there? Any more gonna creep up on us and ambush us? Tell us the truth and we might just let ya go.'  
His face lit up in hope making me almost feel sorry for the him because he actually believed this! 'N...No...'  
And I remembered that it was only the five of them who had raped me but couldn't be 100% sure – especially when I was drugged.  
I held the knife tighter against his throat and couldn't help repress the shudder as he shrunk against my body. I nicked his skin with my blade and drew droplets of blood that gleamed along the metal blade.  
'Ya sure...? Tell me the truth otherwise I'm gonna gut ya like a pig.'  
'Yeah...yeah...' He gabbled, more awake now in fear for his life and I realised for the first time how small the men who had tortured me actually were.  
'I think he's tellin' the truth, those five were the closest to the Governor, I worked with them. Unless they picked up other scum-bags like themselves along the way.' My brother added while I frowned at him because it sounded like he was our one surviving prisoner. Something told me to believe Jones.  
'Better not be any more surprises.' I hissed in his ear. 'Otherwise...' I slid the knife under his shirt, 'I'll carve ya heart out of ya chest, that's if ya got one.'  
'Please...I'm sorry for what we did …...we're sorry...so sorry...'  
I scoffed at him.  
'Fuck you.' I snarled dismissively into his ear, pulling out the blade from him, carelessly so that he hissed in pain when I scratched the skin of his chest with it.  
'Please...jus' don't kill me.'  
I drew back and kicked him. 'Fuckin' coward. Merle!' The whole time the bastard was moaning, weeping, begging for mercy.  
In a flash, my brother was by my side. 'What ya waitin' for?'  
'Ya know what this piece of shit said to me? That he was gonna fuck me to death...'  
'Give me that knife.' Merle tried to snatch it from me but I held it away from him. 'No.'  
I started to pull down Jones' pants while he really began to sob in terror now.  
'I'd thought we'd return the favour.' I sniggered, not even really sure myself what I was going to do with the sick fuck who had made it all as bad as possible for me.  
Merle laughed and joined me. 'Never thought ya'd be the one for that kind of thing, little brother. Especially fuckin' a man to death...Rape...Thought I was the sadistic one.'  
'Well, ya don't know nothin'.' I retorted while Jones really started to weep and wail at that and struggle. 'Please, no, jus' kill me, please don't do that.'  
'Shut up!' I hissed in his ear. 'The more ya fight the worse it's gonna be.... Look at him squirming like a bitch on heat. How can you rape a whore, anyway?'  
Merle chuckled at that.  
We tugged his pants and underwear down between us. He'd wet himself in his terror and we laughed.  
'Ugh, ya pissed yaself? Fuckin' stinks, get them off him.' Holding our noses with one hand, we threw the wet pants and underwear as far away with the other as we could in the bushes.  
We stared at him squirming on the floor, his pale, skinny ass pathetically waggling in the air. His cock limp between his legs.  
'Ya wanna go first?' My brother asked me. He grabbed another bottle of their mineral water and Jones screamed when he emptied it all over him. 'Ugh, this hog still stinks of piss.' Merle shook his head in disgust.  
'Why don't ya look after yaself, have a wash at least?' He mocked the terrified man who of course, didn't answer.  
'Nah, you can. I'll jus' watch.' I sneered when he got the small jar of lube about to open it.  
'Ya always carry that around with ya, Merle? Might of known. Jus' use spit on this bitch like he did with me.' I shivered. 'He didn't even stretch me, jus' rammed his way straight in. Felt like I was bein' fuckin' ripped apart.'  
'He did what?' My brother cried out in outrage and kicked the man viciously in the small of his back and we heard something crack and he screamed in agony. I hoped it was his spine.  
Merle smiled cruelly and put it away.  
'He was worse than the others.' My voice was suddenly cracking, fading away from me as my chest hitched and I hated how pathetic and weak I sounded, especially in front of that piece of shit lying trussed up on the forest floor. But I sensed that the bastard wasn't even paying attention, caught up in his own fear and pain. Weird how my emotions took me by surprise sometimes, still.  
Merle looked over at me suddenly, forgetting all about him. 'Sh...It's OK.'  
The next thing I knew, I was slumped against the tree and couldn't see through the sudden tears blurring my vision and he was by my side in a second with his arm around me. Despite myself, momentarily overcome and feeling shaky, I turned and buried my face in his chest.  
'He really, really fuckin' hurt me.' I whispered to my brother. 'Do whatever ya want with him.' I snarled.  
'Ya safe, ya safe now. I got ya, I got ya. It's over...' His hand was moving in my hair, helping to ground me in the here and now. In the forest out in the open not back in that filthy, grim interrogation cell in Woodbury. His touches and voice telling me it was over, that I was safe, gradually replaced their gropings and taunts and filthy laughter, bringing me back to the present as I slowly came back to myself. Forcing myself to to get a grip on my emotions and my breathing to return to normal. When the memories eventually did stop playing out in front of me like it was happening for real again, I shook his arm off me impatiently.  
'Get off me.' I got to my feet, wiping my eyes and the pathetic pussy tears away. 'No, it ain't over! Look! Get 'im! He's gettin' away!'  
It was true, the wretched man was trying to crawl away on his knees and Merle took hold of him again easily by the scruff of the neck. Shook him like a rag doll.  
'Get back down there.' I heard him say as he dragged him back into the clearing and pushed him down to the ground.  
Merle eagerly tugged his own pants down and despite my words about watching, I turned away. 'Don't be shy, little brother.' He said while I just grunted in reply.  
'Hey, why don't ya get in front? Least he can do is suck ya off. Do us both nice and good at the same time.'  
My bile rose and despite my bloodthirsty need for revenge, I couldn't stomach that. Or letting my brother see me like that. Not for the second time I wondered if I should have let this go so far because what was the difference between them and us? I almost regretted telling Merle to take him like the bastard took me and do the same to him.  
'Nah, ya alright, I'll pass.' I turned away. 'I'll jus' be around.'  
Jones started begging again, pleading with me to stop him as Merle got in behind him and roughly grabbed him by the hair.  
'What? Thought ya'd wanna stay and watch ya revenge, little brother?'  
'Nah- ya alright.'  
Jones really started to panic when he saw me leave. 'Please, don't leave me with him. Ya not like him, like us – ya better than that. I know I deserve to die for what we did - so jus' shoot me and let's get it over with.'  
'Shut the fuck up.' I heard Merle hiss callously into his ear. 'Shootin's too good for scum like ya. Stop callin' for him. He ain't gonna save ya. Now, be still.'  
I winced when I heard him spit into his hand and heard Jones' screams of agony, shortly followed by my brother's moans. Part of me was disgusted with Merle and with myself, after all, hadn't I suggested raping him in revenge? But when push came to shove, I couldn't go through it. This was clear to me as I puked up the contents of my empty stomach – only bile left - into the nearest bush. Torn between rushing back and putting a bullet in the bastard's brain and maybe my brother's too, ending this sick charade once and for all or just letting Merle have his way with him and get revenge for me.  
I slunk away like the coward I was out of earshot, prepared to return later.  
….  
I started making my way back, I didn't know how much time had passed but I couldn't stop the images in my head. Came back to see Jones, his face all bloodied up, sucking on my brother. He was whimpering and his chest was heaving with sobs, making sounds like I had until I couldn't stand it any more.  
'Enough!' I roared, training the gun on my moaning and bucking brother. I could tell that he was practically choking the guy, it was a miracle that Jones could draw enough breath not to pass out.  
Both of them turned to look at me, gaping in surprise and I tried not to look as my brother's dick slid out of his mouth and Merle gave a groan of frustration.  
'Well, well, little brother. Reckon it's ya turn after this bitch is done with me. Don't fuckin' stop!.' He grabbed Jones' hair and twisted it painfully and the wretched man was too broken but to comply and open his mouth again, ready to take him back in. Reminding me of myself. Had I looked like that, acted like that? So broken, it was a wonder Merle and the others had ever managed to bring me back. And Jones only had one person assaulting him – bad enough but only for mere hours – minutes? not days.  
'I said 'Stop!' He's had enough.'  
'What? Ya goin' soft on me, Darlena? After what they did to you?'  
'It don't make it right what we're doin'!'  
'But it was ya idea to fuck this piece of shit to death!'  
'No! I changed my mind! Makes us no different to them!'  
'Well, jus' let him finish me off, little brother, OK?' He turned back to him.  
'No! Get away from him!' I waved the gun at him. 'I ain't bluffing, it's loaded, bro. I'm serious.'  
'Are ya?' He sighed in disappointment but I could see the rage etched on his face and again, I turned away in distaste as he did up his flies.  
'What? How come ya such a shy little princess?'  
'Fuck you. Get out of my way.' I aimed the gun at Jones who, incredibly was still begging for his life, bloodied and filthy as he was and I felt a tiny slither of unwelcome pity despite my rage and hunger for revenge.  
I debated between using my knife or the gun on the bastard. Surely he deserved the knife – but the gun was quicker. Merle had punished him enough I reckoned.  
'Please, if ya let me live, I'll suck both ya dicks, I'm real good, let ya fuck me as much as ya want, please, please don't kill me.'  
'Fuck, what a skanky slut, Merle!' I looked over at my brother and we laughed before I turned back to him. 'It's better than ya deserve, ya piece of shit.' I marvelled at his drive to survive when I'd wished that they would just kill me more times than I could remember when they were going at me. But then it had been going on for days and I believed that it would never end. That I would never be rescued.  
I raised my gun and hit him square in the head, once and once more to make sure he was really dead and wouldn't rise again.  
Finally, 5 down and 0 to go. We had survived but at what price? Merle was red in the face both with angry disbelief and unrequited lust as he turned on me.  
'Ya point a gun at me, boy! Choose him over me?'  
'Fuck you!' I screamed in his face as the dead man watched us with glassy, unseeing eyes, his brains sprayed out all over the ground.  
'Why do I need to when I've got ya, my sweet, baby brother?' Yet we still hadn't traded blows but fell wrestling to the floor and Merle was tearing at my clothes and I was trying to buck him off!  
'Merle! Stop! Ya don't want to do this! Get off me!' I yelled and reached for my dagger.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ha Ha – this one's a real shocker too, same warnings apply. What the hell is Merle up to, anyway? Is he really going to try and force himself on his baby brother? How could he after everything he's been through? Will this destroy Daryl and their relationship forever?

i.  
Daryl 

My brother was pinning me down and tearing at my clothes. I was trying my best to stop him but he was heavier than me, especially as I hadn't gained all my weight back and I needed to find some leverage. More humiliating,I couldn't help the the whimpers escaping me or myself from hyperventilating in fear.  
'Merle, I said FUCKIN' STOP!'   
But it was like he didn't hear me, he only snarled and tried to nuzzle my neck.  
My feelings of panic disappeared as I forced myself to be calm. He was my brother, for fuck's sake, wasn't really going to hurt me – besides, I knew I could handle him. Still, I guess he'd got caught up in the moment. With what I'd told him – allowed him to do. But if I knew Merle, he would have made sure Jones paid whether I wanted him to or not.  
Wouldn't have been the first time I'd rejected his advances...rare as they were because usually he needed to be high or drunk and it struck me that this time, he was as sober as a judge. I'd always known he'd loved me more than a brother should and still it hadn't mattered. I knew it was sick but he was my brother, I'd forgive him anything. Difference was, now I knew why. Dad had messed with him, fucked with his head.   
Must have been that.  
Or maybe he'd inherited his sickness. I pushed that thought away in a hurry.  
Along with the thought of what I'd told him – allowed him to do. But if I knew Merle, he would have made sure Jones paid for what he did to me whether I wanted it or not. One way or another.  
I stopped struggling, deliberately allowing my my body to go limp. He made a pleased sound in his throat at that, taking this as consent no doubt when I'd never let him before.   
'Sh..sh...Ain't gonna hurt ya, jus' make ya feel real good....forget about those dead, sick fucks...and what they did...' He crooned at me as he started running his hands up and down my bare chest – and groaning with desire. I said nothing, did nothing. He'd practically ripped my shirt off, breaking all the buttons in his haste. They were lying on the ground all around us.   
When my hand found my blade. I managed to pull it out and wedge the handle between us.  
'Merle...I said 'Get the fuck off me!'. I screamed as I drew it upwards, and finally managed to get him off me.  
He fell back to the ground, winded with a pained grunt, clutching his stomach and with a sheepish look all over his face and I could tell that he immediately regretted losing control. But I was over there in a shot, my fury taking over at him for making me feel like those men had made me feel again– helpless. Someone else's plaything. An object used for someone's pleasure.  
'Fuckin' bastard, sick pervert!' I yelled in his face, right before I started swinging punches at him, bruising up his face. He took the first few without flinching before he rose to his feet and start fighting back. I barely felt the blows in my fury but I knew I had a split lip and black eye.   
'Ya jus' like him! Sick!' I drove my fist into his stomach after rushing at him again. 'You'd do it to me as well, if ya could? What did ya do to those other men and women?'  
His lips trembled and he looked down at the ground but he didn't reply. There was nothing he could say.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jones' bloody face and lifeless eyes watching us and it made me feel another emotion other than rage at my brother.  
Defiance. Need. Feel something again – that I was alive. Feel another's skin against mine – somebody I could trust not to hurt me to erase their lingering touches and maulings all over my body that felt like it was all on fire right now. Seeing them again, especially Jones - brought it all back and it felt like there was not one inch on my body that they hadn't had their paws on it. I let out a sob without meaning to and burst his lips with another well-placed blow but then I was on top of him. Sobbing uncontrollably again now in both rage and frustration.  
Letting myself feel things I'd always stopped in their tracks before. Because they were wrong and I hadn't even known about the things Dad had done to him then. Maybe all Dixons were sick – a family curse. Yes – that sounded about right.

I wrapped my arms around him and started to kiss him while he chuckled smugly before he started to kiss me back just as gently as if in apology. Taking his cue from me.  
'Well, well, little brother. Who's the sick one now?'  
'Fuck you.' I growled and squirmed on his lap, rubbing our groins together through our jeans. At the same time drawing a moan from him before I bit his lip without warning, making it bleed before I licked the blood off. Savouring the bitter, metallic taste of my brother before I plundered his mouth again with my greedy tongue.  
After a little while, we had to come up for air, breathing heavily but we still didn't stop touching one another, drinking each other in with our hands and touch.  
'Yeah, ya know ya want to.' Were his first words to me as he just laughed again, undeterred. 'Fuck, I like it little brother when ya get all feisty. And kinky to say the least. Never knew ya had it in ya.'  
I bit him again, his earlobe this time as if to prove my point and he groaned. 'Why now, all of a sudden?' He asked as he grabbed hold of me and flipped us over so that I was lying on the ground beneath him instead of straddling him. Hands fumbling to undo his flies in his eagerness.   
'No!.' I told him in a moment of panic and put my hand on his arm. 'Not like this. Get off me.'  
I had felt the fear rise in me again when he pinned me down and it seemed like I could hear them around me again and my brother's touches were theirs again. Letting out a moan of frustration, he immediately stopped and did as I told him. He brushed the hair hanging off my face away to look into my eyes. 'Ya the one in control, baby brother and don't ya ever forget that. Learnt my lesson. Don't need to be afraid of me no more.' And something about his words made me get hard down there.  
' Ain't scared of ya and ya better have, you sick fuck.' But it was a lie. The things he admitted to me that he'd done in Woodbury and seeing him brutalise Jones and reduce him to a sobbing wreck had made me a little afraid of him. That was without him suddenly attacking me. I knew he was sorry for that temporary slip of control even so, I slapped his face, a little too hard than I meant to. Leaving a red mark in the shape of a hand where there was a patch of unbruised skin. 'Ya think I can't handle myself or you?'   
He chuckled dirtily again and grabbed my throat. 'Yeah, ya sure 'bout that, Darlena?'  
'Get down.' I forced him to the ground and he let me go. 'Stay down there!' I ordered him while he grinned and somehow him letting me have power over him was keeping the memories away and me in the present. I attacked his neck, biting deep enough to draw blood. Then licking it away and I could tell he liked this as he gasped and shuddered.  
'How much longer ya gonna keep me waitin'? He demanded hungrily when I got up away from him. 'Another year?'   
I went over the Jones, meanwhile keeping a careful eye on Merle to check that he didn't ambush me. Still didn't trust him, thought he'd rush me any moment despite his reassurances that I 'was the one in control'.   
I untied the blood-stained rope binding Jones' hands behind him, wrinkling my nose at the stink of piss and fear that still lingered over his dead corpse.  
'Hurry up!' Merle was getting impatient and I felt gratified to see his eyes widen in surprise. 'Wha...what ya gonna do with that?' I couldn't believe it but he almost sounded nervous to my ears.  
He started to rise to his feet until I glared at him and he slumped back down again.  
I spat on the bastard's dead body and kicked him a few times before I returned to my brother.  
'Come here.' I hissed in his ears. 'Ain't gonna hurt ya.' I laughed then bitterly and it felt good to be the one to say it for once and to mean it and I wiped the tears from my eyes before I tied his hands behind him. But then I asked, 'That not too tight?' as I tested his binds.   
He shook his head. 'Ya do what ya gotta do, baby brother. Ain't gonna stop ya.'  
I smiled as something struck me. I loosened the ropes so that Merle could reach all the way around me, not really restrained in fact. Still giving me a sense of control – it was more psychological more than anything else but giving him more freedom. 'So ya can touch me.' I whispered in reply to his questioning look and he smirked at that. 'Yeah and ya gonna want me to. Ya don't know the things I can do...with these hands.' To prove his point he started to stroke the crotch of my jeans.  
My breath hitched at that in excitement.  
Merle, for his part, didn't resist, let me do what I wanted. Even closed his eyes trustfully and I thought that he sure had a lot more trust in me than I had in him. We were soon out of our clothes and panting.   
'Only gonna happen once and one time only. Better make the most of it.' I told him. His eyes snapped open at that and he hissed in disappointment. 'Because we killed all of them.' I added.  
'We'll see about that...' He promised.  
I ignored him as I ran my hands up under his shirt just like he'd done to me, and found his nipples. When I started to tease them between my thumbs and forefingers like I did with women, he threw back his head and groaned wantonly. Then, getting more and more excited, he ground himself into me at that and I knew it was time.   
'Where is it?'  
He knew what I was talking about and nodded over to where Jones' was, nearby was the small tub.  
I closed my eyes as I let him get behind me, start preparing me. Without even discussing it, we knew that this was the way it was going to go down. Every now and then I would shudder and a whimper would escape my lips and he would stop and shush me. Praise me for being so brave or calling me beautiful while he stroked my hair or my back and kiss my skin until I nodded and my breathing slowed and he carried on. It took us a long time this way but I knew then he would never hurt me and the panicky feelings of fear were replaced by a feeling of safety. I knew now he'd stop if I told him to. Was going to make sure that I was OK with everything that happened each step along the way. More than that, he'd hold me afterwards. Yet his fingers hurt even though he pushed one in very slowly and only one, then two at a time until he reached some special place deep inside that had me moaning with pleasure and pushing back against his fingers.  
'I'm gonna do this with my cock.' He whispered in my ear, pleased with himself. 'Think about how that'll feel.'   
And even though his words were exciting me, the way he said them reminded me of Louie and I couldn't help letting out a small, sissy cry of distress.   
'Want me to stop, baby brother?'  
'No, no. Jus' somethin' ya said...keep goin'.'  
'Ready?'  
I held my breath and nodded. 'Do it.'   
But still he hesitated. 'I'm not sure...Ya don't really want it...' He drew back after practically assaulting me!  
I turned around to glare at him. Couldn't believe it because now I wanted him. 'Fuck it, Merle. Isn't this all you've ever wanted and now ya say ya can't fuck me?' I whined.  
'OK, then.' He grinned and started to slide himself into me slowly. Even so, despite all the time he took preparing me, it stung at first so he started to stroke me between my legs to distract me and it did help a little. The growing pleasure from both places started to replace the pain.  
'Ya OK?'  
'Yeah. Fuck me, fuck me...jus' fuck me...' I started to whisper like a mantra or more like a prayer, over and over again as he obliged.  
When he bottomed out inside me, I snarled even as I winced before I started moaning when he found the right angle after a few tries to hit that sensitive spot again and again and again, never missing his mark. Soon I was begging him not to stop.  
He was gasping and panting too, sped up the pace when he sensed that I'd got used to the feel of him inside me and wasn't in pain any more. In the end, I screamed out his name and he cried out mine when he came as second or two after me.  
…  
Afterwards, he pulled me to him and held me while we recovered. I let him but I soon pushed him away - feeling disgusted with myself and with him. With how easily I lost control. Worse – I couldn't get the image of him raping Jones out of my head, even though I'd been the one to suggest it...I was just so full of rage and hate. Probably, I was disappointed that Merle had sunk so low like I'd been testing him and he'd failed.

Disappointed in myself, too because I hadn't stopped it, not even tried and now this.

Then we heard it. Pathetic rasping sobs coming from behind the bushes to the right. Someone was hurting, someone was in trouble. Had they been watching us the whole time? Seen what we'd done to Jones and to each other? My empty stomach churned at the thought someone had seen the things we'd done and I had to fight back another wave of nausea.  
I prayed that it was no-one from the group. Racked my brains for people who'd gone missing lately...but couldn't think of anyone.

'Merle...' I turned to him.


	12. Chapter 12

i.

Daryl

After we were done, he had put his arm around me and held me to him there on the ground for the few minutes it took us to get our breath back until I shook him off. No doubt he wanted to reassure me afterwards, was probably worried about me feeling used after what had happened.  
'Turn the fuck around!' I had ordered him harshly, pushing him off and getting up.  
'Dar...' He had started but I didn't let him finish. Out of my eye, I saw him sheepishly obey and turn his back.  
'Shut the fuck up! Ya got what ya always wanted, should be happy!' I had snarled even while my face blushed with shame. He didn't say anything, after all what else could he say?  
What had we done? Of course I had known what he'd always wanted from me but this was the first time I'd ever given it to him. Ever wanted to. But now my stomach lurched as the realisation that we'd crossed an invisible line struck me.  
I tugged on my jeans, not bothering with my underwear in my hurry to get dressed. Left them hanging on a bush but I didn't care.  
'And before ya get any other ideas in ya head, ain't never gonna happen again! 'Cos it was wrong, we're sick!' I yelled at him.  
'OK, whatever ya say, little brother.' He said with such faux-casualness, I could have screamed. But bit my tongue instead before pulling on my t-shirt and intending to stomp back to the camp. Not looking back at my brother - I was determined not to have him with me and he knew it. Not least because what I'd seen him do, even though I'd told him to. So he didn't follow me, just lay there and for a moment, I was torn between going back to him and continuing when we heard the painful noise that was making my heart clench in my chest. Our argument all forgotten.  
Someone sobbing, in trouble and my heart lurched, nearly leaping up out of my throat. Merle jumped to his feet before I could stop him and I followed him to the source of the sound, behind a bush. Knowing whoever it was must be their prisoner, a man because the bastards didn't make no distinction between male and female.  
The person was still hidden behind the bush, my brother hadn't reached it yet.  
'Merle...hold back.' He glanced at me curiously. 'Let me. Ya'll scared 'em.'  
He stood still, let me overtake him. I crouched down on my knees.  
'Sh...It's OK.' There was a pause in the weeping from the other side. 'We're friends.' All the time I was dreading finding someone from the group maybe, who had found us. Anyway, how much had they seen? Had they seen Merle take his revenge for me...us together? I shuddered even though the blazing August sun was glaring down on me, making the back of my neck – red, no doubt. I laughed inwardly at the thought because 'redneck' was what most people thought as soon as they saw me, together with the word 'dumb' when they heard my accent.  
Fuck'em. Merle hung back as I had instructed.  
'Sh...' I repeated, still no more sound but I could hear the other man's ragged breathing. I had nearly reached the plant. 'Ain't gonna hurt ya...' I soothed. Parted the leaves to come face to face with...

A man I didn't know, about my age but shorter, stockier. Hispanic looking. Did he even speak English? I guess he did because he had seemed to understand me. He'd calmed down at the sound of my voice.  
His face was all bruised up (of course) and his hands were tied up behind a tree. Eyes red and full of tears. Clothes ripped and filthy and bloody but I was glad to see that at least he was wearing some. Not like me – they'd kept chained up naked like a dog most of the time.  
He looked at me dully, didn't even seem aware that I was there.  
'Merle, untie him.' I told my brother softly before I addressed the man. 'What's ya name, brother? Ya speak English right?'  
He nodded. Looking right at me then before he glanced forwards at the ruins of their camp and the dead bodies. But we were in the way and he couldn't see anything, luckily.  
'Don't look there.' I told him. 'It's over. Ya safe...we killled' em.'  
He looked at me and the hitching in his chest was slowing down. Until he saw my brother that was and he shrunk back even as his eyes were filled with hate and outrage. Mixed with terror.  
'Get away from me, ya sick fuck.' He hissed at him with a local accent. 'I know who ya are. Saw what ya did.'  
Merle's eyebrows rose in surprise and we exchanged glances because hat was he talking about? 'So, ya ain't a Spic after all...can even speak English.' He retorted cruelly, lashing out like he did usually when attacked.  
Shit. The man looked broken like I guess I had been when they rescued me but he still had some fight in him and bristled at Merle for this racist slur while I glared back at him. Despite what I knew 99.9% how they'd been using him.  
'It's OK, it's only my brother. ' I told him frankly, taking a chance. The man didn't recoil in shock and disgust so I guessed he hadn't seen what we'd done together at least. Couldn't help breathe out the sigh of relief. Probably he meant he knew Merle as one of the Governor's men. I shuddered because had Merle also abused this man? No, I told myself. Maybe he heard the noises and put two and two together and got four. That was more like it.  
Despite my suspicions and the things I knew Merle had done under that psycho, I added, 'He ain't like them.'  
He sighed with relief then like he finally believed me and allowed my brother to come to him and untie him. We were half expecting him to get to his feet and flee and we would have let him after trying to warn him of the dangers, even though it would probably mean his death. He'd been a prisoner long enough. About time he had his freedom.  
However, he could only get shakily to his feet and sway from side to side until we steadied him.  
'Ya comin' with us.' Merle told him. He didn't argue. We got him back to camp, confident he hadn't seen anything we'd done. The bush was in the way of his view, after all.  
Telling ourselves we were sure that he didn't know, not for sure. Maybe he'd heard somethings, though. 

ii.

Later on, I pointedly ignored him, tried to turn my back on him when he pulled me to him that night. Because I didn't want him but I did – what I'd seen him do even though I knew he'd done it before. Because seeing their prisoner – he hadn't told us his name yet, had brought back all the bad memories. He was disgusting, a monster but none of it mattered because he was my brother.  
The only family I had left.  
'Sh...sh... ' He hushed me and I let him because the shakes had come back with a vengeance. The flashbacks of those men – no, animals were assaulting me again when they'd been absent for a long time. Had my brother and what I'd allowed him to do made them come back?  
'M...Merle...' I whimpered, hating the weakness that had crept back into my voice.  
'Sh...I don't want nothin', promise.' He stroked my hair.  
'What we done?' I looked at him, eyes wide and full.  
'Nothin'.' He pulled me closer. Kissed me on the forehead like Mama did when I was little but I was too exhausted to be surprised and question him or make him stop. 'Nothin', baby brother. Go to sleep.'  
That night, I didn't have any more nightmares. Merle was just my brother again and we would forget all about what had happened. When I woke up, he was still holding me. Snoring in my ear.


	13. Chapter 13

TTWH 13

i.

Daryl

He'd got what he wanted but it didn't stop him trying again. Like when we sat around the campfire, he'd put his arms around me but this time it was different – the way he touched me felt different. There was a new hopeful hunger in it now, probably my fault. Nobody thought anything of it, of course - he'd been like this since it happened when I'd needed it but they couldn't see him nuzzle the back of my neck –felt like my skin was burning where his teeth just barely grazed it - from where they were sitting. Or notice when he'd discretely slide one hand up the front of my shirt. He'd got a hell of a lot bolder lately and despite myself and my vow, I felt my skin begin to flush and a coil of excitement growing in my belly. Along with the sick feeling of guilt at the things we'd done.  
What had I done?  
'Merle!' I hissed. 'Would ya stop it? I ain't a baby.' I pushed his arms off me and stomped away. He let me go with such a frown of disappointment written all over his face that I almost turned back, feeling sorry for him. Glenn, Maggie with a few others glanced up curiously.  
'Ya didn't complain before.' He snidely commented. 'Liked it then. Needed me.'  
'Yeah? Well, I'm all better now!' I retorted harshly and went and sat down with them when I'd always been with my brother since he got back. Couldn't really remember much about those early days after Woodbury.  
'Hi.' Glenn said almost shyly. 'Things OK between you two?'  
I returned the greeting and shrugged. Maggie had one arm slung around him and I hoped I wasn't intruding but I just had to get away from Merle and his wandering hands. I knew he wouldn't follow me – wouldn't go near those two and luckily they didn't seem to mind. Were they even glad to see me?  
'How's it going?' Maggie asked guardedly while still keeping hold of her boyfriend.  
'Fine.' I knew what she meant – was I still having nightmares? Was I getting over things finally? But I didn't want to talk about any of that.  
'Good to see you, bro.' Glenn was literally beaming as he handed me a bottle and a vague flashback that for once wasn't about them struck me then. Had he really got into bed with me? Pretended to be my brother and put his arms around me? Held me all night so that I could finally get some sleep that first night back? It was so confused and I knew I'd been drugged (and tied up- my mind whispered and I rubbed my wrists because had Rick really had me restrained?) at the time that I wasn't sure. Could have dreamt it. In any case, couldn't believe that the group would have tied me to the bed – not after what they'd done. How could they?  
I shrugged all this off. I'd been in a really bad way – probably another nightmare mixed in with reality.  
I chugged on the chilled beer – how had they done that? Threw back half the bottle in a couple of gulps while they stared at me before I remembered myself and slowed down. Glenn always drank slowly – couldn't seem to take the booze like we could maybe because of his foreign blood. Maggie always sipped delicately from her bottle. All the time I could feel my brother's eyes burning into me as he gulped down our whiskey all by himself. Even as I deliberately ignored him, accusing me of betraying him, preferring them to him.  
What we did was wrong, Merle. All of it – we're animals, no better than them. I need some space – be with other people. Ain't natural!  
But what I forgot to add in my head was that he was alone apart from me.  
People were relaxed, having fun with each other and boozing when suddenly the good mood around the campfire was interrupted by piercing screams and sobs coming from the medical tent.  
Merle rolled his eyes and Herschel got up to go, putting down his coke with a sigh. 'Excuse me. Beth, would ya help me, please?'  
She got up and followed him. She wasn't drinking – Herschel forbade it because she was still under-age and because of their family history. Maggie, on the other hand, was allowed as much booze as she wanted.  
'I wanna come too.' I got up and followed them behind the girl and they looked back at me curiously.  
I shrugged. 'We need to find out who he is- one of the good guys or is he gonna bring trouble to the group?' I said in explanation. Herschel raised one eye-brow but didn't object.  
As we got closer the noises that had ruined everybody's relaxing evening got louder and we could hear the stranger screaming. 'No! No...Get off me.' Just like I had. Sounded like me a short time ago.  
Herschel stopped suddenly outside the tent. Must have seen the look on my face or my tremblings starting up again. 'Daryl...ya think this is a good idea, son? Might bring back stuff.'  
'Yes, Daryl. We'll be fine – you don't need to come.' Beth agreed with her father.  
'No.' I almost growled. 'I want to do this. Me and Merle found him – he knows my face.'  
…..  
We still couldn't get anything out of him, not even his name. When I told them to leave us alone together, he sighed and turned to face the other wall, giving me his back. I thought about shaking him and forcing him to look at me and answer but decided against it. Herschel had told me in confidence that the poor bastard had been used in the same way as I had and I shuddered. The last thing the man needed was someone trying to push him around. Forcing him.  
'Talk to ya tomorrow and ya better have some answers.' My last parting shot before I left him. Heard him sigh. I hadn't meant to sound so harsh but it had just slipped out, apparently I still wasn't so good at dealing with people. Feeling bad about it, I went back to the bed, only intending to stroke his arm but he cringed away. 'No...please don't....' Probably sensing my shadow over him so I did nothing and backed off. Just like me, I could hardly bear anyone touching me after it happened except for Merle. Not even him at first. So I left. Zipped up the tent and shook my head at the vet waiting outside.  
'Look, why don't we just let him go?' I said. 'I don't think he wants to be here.'  
'Because he's still recovering. Still....(he paused) ...bleedin'.' Beth turned away as I winced involuntarily.  
'Right.' I left them and made my way back to the campfire. The party had broken up, no surprise there. Found myself dragging my feet back to the tent I shared with my brother, debated whether there was somewhere else I could sleep. He was worse when he'd been drinking and since I'd opened Pandora's Box, he thought he still had another chance with me. 

ii.  
Merle

He came in to the tent, shoulders hunched. Even in the twilight darkness, I could see he was shaking. Badly and all I wanted to do was to hold him to make that damn trembling stop.  
'Come here.' I whispered but he held back like he didn't trust me. Looked like he was going to turn around and go right back out there and he might as well have taken his hunting knife and stabbed me in the heart.  
'Oh, come on, little brother. Ain't gonna do nothin', promise.'  
But then he was on top of me, hands around my throat. Straddling me as he hissed, 'Fuck you.'  
'Do ya wanna?' I chuckled even as he started to choke me and reached up with one hand to smooth back his hair until he went limp and let go.  
'Sick fuck.' He muttered but he slumped against me then, grabbing my shirt with both hands. I continued to soothe him. I liked to think it was my dirty joke that had got him, stopped him. I'd only been half-playful.  
'What ...what is it?'  
'N...nothin'.' He snarled but I could feel him shaking even more and still on top of me. I reached under the back of his shirt to feel his scars with both hands. Also to stroke the smooth undamaged parts of skin. He made some incomprehensible noise deep down in his throat at that and I couldn't tell if he was protesting or if he liked what I was doing. Anyway, I couldn't stop myself from touching him or muttering, 'Ya so fuckin' damn beautiful, even with the scars. Maybe even more beautiful because of them. I know ya think he made ya ugly but that ain't what other people see, believe me.'  
He whimpered when I mentioned the old man and what he did to him when he'd done much worse to me. I'd only meant did it to make him feel better but it was a stupid thing to say when I knew those bastards had given him more on his thighs – I'd seen them. Sick fucks had wanted to 'add' to the scars already there and I knew every one of the new ones. Kissed them all in turn in fact – the memory of the one time he'd let me last night was making me hard and I wondered vaguely if I would get to do it again. So, for my own sake as much as for his, I tried to change the subject since I couldn't take a ice-cold shower just then.  
'Sh...sh. I know. It's the prisoner, what they did to him, bringin' it all back.' I told him, moving my hands away from his back to stroke his hair instead. He whimpered again at that and clung to me then, burrowing his head into my chest but his trembling was slowing down at last.  
'This place, the group ain't doin' ya any good, Darlena. We should leave. Go somewhere where ya can forget.'  
That got his attention and he looked up from chest with big blue eyes that were weepy and red, but also full of fury and determination.  
'I don't wanna fuckin' forget!' He snapped. I only smiled and stroked his cheek - he was so beautiful. The contrast so startling and stunning but then that was my little brother all over – conflicted and full of contradictions all the way through.  
'No, Merle.' He continued more quietly this time. 'They're good people.'  
I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue, 'Good people who left you behind with those animals...' because he needed to believe in them. Instead, I brushed his hair back on both sides instead until like a child, he laid he his head back down on my chest again.  
'OK, OK...whatever ya say.' I sighed and cradled him closer. I didn't like the group, weren't my people but I'd do whatever he wanted.  
I lay back and stared at the ceiling of the tent when his breathing started to slow and become regular. My arm was starting to go dead from where he was lying on it but I was worried about waking him if I tried to shift.  
Looked like I wasn't going to get any sleep but I was enjoying being so close to him that I almost didn't mind.

Except how was I going to slip out and do what had to be done without him knowing?


	14. Chapter 14

TTWH 14  
i.

Merle   
I somehow disengaged himself from his brother clinging to me, even in his sleep and slipped out our tent without waking him up. Poor bastard was exhausted and I had time to regret involving him in my sordid revenge – letting my baby brother descend to our level. When all I'd ever tried to do was protect him, deal with the shit out there so that he wouldn't have to.  
I'd failed. Miserably.  
I knew what we'd done haunted him but at the time I just hadn't stopped to think – really wanted to visit the old 'Eye for an eye, Tooth for a tooth' justice on the piece of shit Jones who had had hurt him the most. The only form of justice that the Dixons had always subscribed to.  
But rape? Rape for rape? I shrugged. Wasn't like I hadn't done it before although never before I got mixed up with the Governor and his men...told myself I didn't want to do it at first but in the end I'd joined in just as enthusiastically as the others. I wondered that it had been such a huge leap for me – the first prisoner had been a woman when all the time I kept seeing Tammy's face, hearing Tammy screaming but it hadn't stopped me. I justified it to myself that if I didn't, they'd see me as prey because I was different and different usually being dangerous – would turn on me. I'd seen them pounce on Richie, some dumb, idealistic 20 year- old something kid who had refused to join in and turn him into a slut to service them. He hadn't lasted long, got used up pretty quickly.  
After that, the gang-rapes got easier – especially as they made sure that they didn't know their names - even the next woman and the next man and the next man and the next woman...so on and so on until I couldn't even remember. And the the next until they got used up and discarded. When their eyes went dead and they no longer cried or begged. Just meant they were no fun any more – because where's the fun in raping a living corpse? That usually meant fed to the Walker-pits outside the town. Men were the easiest of all although I'd always hated fags...joined in, even started group gay-bashing outside the bars at home with no problem and now there I was, fucking men. I realised now my rampant homophobia had been a kind of camouflage to cover up my unbrotherly thoughts of my sweet, baby brother and the things I would like to do with him. But he'd been the only the one. Anyway, my feelings for Daryl had never seemed to be anything to do with just sex – I told myself they were purer. Were more than just about the fucking. Especially as there'd been no chance in hell of him reciprocating but him being forbidden to me in more ways than one had only made him even more alluring until that one time recently and I still couldn't believe that he had. Had he been harbouring the same feelings for me all this time? No, I couldn't really believe that. It was just the high of dispatching our enemies got to us – well more for me than him. Especially when he'd stopped me in mid-fuck – I'd looked to him to provide me with my release even though it was sick. I was also frustrated and wanted to make him pay for his interruption. But I told myself I would never have pushed it – not if he had really refused. Would never do it to him- even if I could have done. He was more than capable of fighting me off, whatever the group thought. Like I was the Pied Piper and he was under my thrall or some stupid shit like that. Like he didn't know his own mind.  
But then a fuck was just a fuck- a necessary biological release... and pure pleasure...didn't have anything to do with sexual orientation. The poor bastards we used were no more than safety valves -so the Governor had confided in me – to release the stress and pressures from surviving the Zombie Apocalypse and risking their lives every day to keep the townspeople of Woodbury safe.   
It was our privilege and reward. To use these worthless pieces of humanity as they wanted. They were our enemies – potential threats because they'd already betrayed us and worst of all – dumb enough to get captured by us. So, they deserved everything they got.  
So, he told me and I told myself.   
But then I saw Daryl there being mauled by them, fighting back – even getting in a punch or kick, acting tough but terrified all the same. Oh - I could see it in his eyes but his fear was well-hidden as usual. And I was about to join in! Ignore the pleading in them, begging his big brother to save him, not to hurt him as well.  
And every time I told myself this, I saw my father's red face as he grunted on top of me and the smell of his rancid whiskey breath overpowering me.

Or Tammy. Or when I was feeling the self-loathing and disgust in full force, my brother's face would appear, glaring at me with narrowed eyes and mouth twisted in contempt in that tell-tale Dixon sneer. Telling me that he would never had done those things.  
It was our privilege and reward. It happens in war all the time.  
So our boss told us when he came to join in with a particular succulent morsel. Turned out the slut was only 14 – not barely legal and that got to me. I'd gone away and retched in secret afterwards. Just some well-built youth – bad for him. Had the Governor known and been playing us? There was a twinkle in his eye when he'd told us there had been some mistake and in future, we should avoid 'using' children. Under-age sluts were out of the question – we had certain standards to uphold. I could have sworn that he looked directly at me then and that he knew.   
Some idiot chuckled nervously at this and Philip must have taken it as sarcasm because he'd jerked his head at the back-up at the door and they'd dragged him out. A lean man who reminded me of a weasel, the way he kissed my ass and our boss's. Blurting out apologies and explanations did him no good as the rest of us looked on coldly, no-one making a move to save him – none of us had particularly liked Reggie – if it had been jail (the similarities at that time escaped me because no-one leaves) he would have been everyone's bitch. And willing too, no doubt. Besides, it was a given that he'd either end up in the show on Saturday night or in the Walker-pits in the morning.   
I could have sworn that was when my boss smirked at me and that's when I started to fall out of favour. But I didn't know it at the time.  
Sick fuck.   
Had he joined in with Darlena? Of course – wouldn't have been able to resist my brother. When even I hadn't been able to and I felt a thrill of hate pass through me then for the bastard.  
Daryl hadn't said – had been pretty with-holding of the full details – no matter how hard I tried to get them from him.Probably couldn't bear to tell me and wanting to protect me, if I know my brother.  
Then why did I feel sick when I remembered what we did? When a random face of one of the unnamed prisoners popped into my head? And why had I never done it before, not even to Daryl?   
Oh, yes my brother knew he'd always secretly wanted him but he hadn't known what our Daddy did to me, was that a reason or a mere excuse?   
I shook my head. Before the whole world ended, under normal circumstances I would never have done that shit. Couldn't do it to Daryl.   
Once upon a time.  
Couldn't do it to anyone. Especially to him.   
Even though he adored me once upon a time and probably would have forgiven me even that.   
But he would never forgive me for doing it to others. I remembered how he looked at me then when he'd declared that he wouldn't have done it. Even if it meant his death...or worse.  
Dixons don't do regret or self-pity. I knew that if the group knew what I'd done...Rick and a few of the others suspected but had no proof. Never understand and I would have to leave them, maybe Daryl if he chose the group over me. He'd changed and I could take his undivided loyalty to me for granted.  
It wasn't going to change anything- I couldn't risk Daryl being forced to face that dilemma or the group finding out that I'd been a very bad boy in Woodbury. I'd do anything to stop that happening – putting down that Spic piece of trash would be nothing. He was scum.   
I knew what he'd done ...what he was. Why the others had turned on him, I didn't know.  
I could guess – he'd drawn the short straw according to that old goodie – probably subconscious – racial prejudice. Or perhaps they were simply out of options – got horny and had chosen him to serve their needs. Though why they couldn't just have a mutual jerk-off session escaped me.  
Or maybe he'd done something stupid- betrayed them somehow or tried to leave. The ultimate crime because nobody left the group – or the Governor unless they were already dead.   
I really didn't care.  
Because nobody left. But I had...And Daryl had paid the price.  
I would do anything to keep my brother and my secret. They already looked down at me as if I was something Daryl dragged in...  
So, I crept along the way to the medical tent. Praying that I would be alone to carry out my business – hard and fast and that my brother wouldn't wake up and miss me. Come and try to stop me, no doubt.  
I had to put an end to Martinez. Protect Daryl and myself.  
Him first – he'd always be first.   
…  
ii.  
Daryl

I woke up with a start. The bad dreams that had eased off were back with a vengeance – except it wasn't that bunch of laughing hyenas – it was my brother. For some reason, I was the shy, lanky 18 year old again but he hadn't got any younger- same age now, just as cocky and experienced. Not that there was a time that I remembered he wasn't. He'd caught me unawares as I was sleeping and was pinning me to my bed with a knife at my throat to keep me subdued. 'No!' I screamed, maybe even subconsciously hoping Dad would come running in and put a stop to it. I didn't understand where this was coming from – my brother wasn't even drunk, I couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath. And he wasn't worried about the volume of my screams and protests. Must be high on some shit then – no other way in hell would he be trying to do this to me. Or he was so bold because he knew Dad was down the bar.  
'Jus' lie still and relax, little brother.' He crooned while he kissed my cheek and I whimpered in revulsion. I badly wanted to wipe away his saliva I felt so dirty but I couldn't move.  
'Get the fuck off me! No!'  
He growled and cuffed me.  
'Ya don't want to do this, Merle! Ya can't!'  
I was scared to fight back but I made it as hard as I could for him to pull down my jeans and not wanting to risk cutting me, he threw it to the carpet, I'd give him that. Yet every time I got a bite or a kick in, he'd cuff me back down. He had the element of surprise and greater body weight on his side while I was still a skinny teenager. He worked out with weights regularly. I heard him snarl and hiss like a wild animal in frustration when I just wouldn't lie down and take it until giving up, he finally punched me so hard that I blacked out. I woke up to find my big brother inside me! With the knife back at my throat. It hurt like hell apart from the shock and disgust of it and I couldn't help out letting out an undignified sob.  
'Fuckin' little pussy.' He hissed. 'Stop cryin' Ain't ya ever fucked a guy before?' His tone mocking as if he couldn't believe it. When he and Dad were the biggest homophobes around.  
I didn't need to shake my head, he knew I hadn't.  
'Jus' lie still for Ole Merle. I'm gonna show ya how good it feels.'  
'NO! Jus' stop, sick fuck!'   
He took no notice and traced my throat lightly with the point of the blade. Reminding me who had all the power here and instead of easing me into things, he was fucking raping me! I didn't want any of it – didn't want him – well, not in that way. Then he drew the knife over my throat but not deep.  
'Ouch! That fuckin' hurts!' I screamed in shock at the sting, panicking when I felt the trickle of blood making my skin itch and when he didn't let me go, 'He'll kill ya for this.'  
He laughed as if he knew I would never tell and threw the knife carelessly away, now that he'd got what he wanted. Cut me too.   
'Fuck you! Jus' stop!...Please, Merle. I don't wanna...!  
'Sh...ya'll start to like it in minute.'  
'No I won't! Ya gonna go to hell for this!' But then...  
Oh the horror and the guilty pleasure. He let me bleed a while while he carried on punishing me without mercy before he lapped up the blood, hushing me and it felt surprisingly good. Then he kissed an old scar lingeringly on my back hard and I gasped and squirmed. That was the beginning of it - as my body somehow adjusted to accommodate him and I started to anticipate every thrust pounding me into the bed so that the springs seemed to screech in protest in sympathy. Yet the pain of feeling like I was being impaled on a spike from behind gradually faded into unbelievable pleasure. Even though I hadn't wanted any of it!  
I sensed him smirk at the change in my responses as he reached down to fondle me between my legs and my moans and gasps grew louder. Timing his strokes with his thrusts. Before he changed the rhythm without warning – to caress me randomly even while he was pounding me into the bed. And then to stroke me in between thrusts and back again but so I never knew when. It drove me crazy.  
'Bastard! Stop changin' the rhythm!' I turned to him furiously while he laughed and only kept on surprising me even more by changing his angle and the depth of them as well as his pace. Keeping me guessing even more. He slipped his tongue in my mouth even before I finished cursing him. Our tongues swirled and probed each other's carefully for a moment. He smugly carried on overwhelming me with stimulation as he kissed me everywhere he could reach and everywhere his lips touched left a trail of fire on my skin. Making me feel that I might pass out again from the relentless onslaught of the various blissful sensations he was giving me.   
I had to admit it was the best screw I'd ever had – even topping the girls at school who thought I was cute and kind of emo in a cool way and got turned on by my scars and let me. Of course I'd lied about how I got them said they were from street fights – getting stabbed by a rival gang-member sounded much cooler than 'My Dad did it.' But even the best of them didn't even match up. But damn if I was going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know it.  
My moans were coming deep and noisy now but during the whole thing, his as well but every now he would snarl and nibble my ear. The pleasure kept on mounting until I almost couldn't take it any more and I knew that we were both going to come soon.  
'Merle!' I groaned – breathing fast, heart thundering in my ears. Partly in relief that it had only been a wet dream – (OK- starring my own brother – how sick was that?) patting around in the dark, aware that the nightmare had given me a raging hard-on. Checking my throat for blood – was almost disappointed when my fingers came away dry. Jesus – did someone hear me? Was I making those noises out loud?  
'Fuck you. You ain't so special.' I was still half-asleep, hadn't registered what Merle gone meant. 'Ya can get those ideas out ya head 'cos it ain't never gonna happen ever again. It's...jus' sick!'   
There was no answer and my sleep and sex-addled brain started to awake slowly.  
'Merle! NO!' I cried out for a very different reason. I realised where he'd gone and to do what.  
'Ya stupid, fuckin' asshole!' He must have recognised the prisoner, was worried about him exposing him and his sordid secret. The despicable things he'd done in Woodbury.  
Proof not just suspicion. They'd lynch him for sure if they prisoner spoke – most still hadn't forgiven him for what had happened to Maggie. Rick always looked at him askance.   
I got up and dressed as quickly as I could, trying to distract myself. The problem at hand was more than enough to do that.  
Part of me wondered if the swarthy man had also participated before he became prey instead. If he did, why should I care if Merle kills the scumbag? What's he to me? Might hurt the women when he recovers.  
But I didn't know. Had to give him a chance because maybe he was decent.  
I carried on padding forcefully to the medical tent. Surely he wouldn't be left alone? What if he woke up freaking out in the middle of the night? Like I used to afterwards?I shuddered at the memories. Merle would pull me tighter to him and stroke my hair until I could relax enough to sleep. But often I would wake up again and again during the night from more nightmares about the Governor's men, especially that freak Jones but my brother would never get annoyed at the constant interruptions to his sleep.  
I didn't know how he did it – I knew that in reality he couldn't be more different from the man in my dream.  
But then I thought about what he'd done – he was no better than them! I shouldn't ever forget that.  
I made my way silently but as quickly as I could. In time to stop a murder, I hoped. 

But found something much worse.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like the brothers have gone beyond the point of no return in more ways than one and how is Merle going to stop Caesar from possibly exposing the despicable crimes he committed in Woodbury to the group?

Merle

i.  
My brother was snoring slightly, sleeping soundly without waking up and I took it as a hopeful sign that it was all because he felt safe in my arms. He was a heavy weight pinning me down – my arm had gone dead but still I let him lie there at peace for once. I was even glad to feel a new solidness to his body – as his mind had recovered, he'd started to eat again. I'd had to literally spoon-feed him at first – he'd only take food from me at first in those early days.  
As if. He knew the things I'd done in Woodbury, what I'd done to the animals who had hurt him so badly. Knew what I was capable of without regret or a look back.  
He also knew the things that our own father had done to me...the unspeakable things I'd endured for him so that he wouldn't have to. Because Dad had threatened to do the same to him while he promised that he wouldn't touch him if I let him. That was until I got old enough to fight him off. The old man – always a coward at heart had backed down then. I remembered beating him almost to the point of unconsciousness, screaming at him that I wasn't going to let him do it to me any more. Daryl had cowered behind me, naturally terrified but even so, my bruised five year old brother had grabbed my arm and pulled me away, pleading with me to stop.  
I think I would have killed the evil asshole – regretted that I hadn't because he'd still managed to damage my brother when I'd left him with him.  
Did Daryl remember? I wasn't sure. Still, somehow, the old bastard to keep his word had paid off – Dixons kept their promises and he'd never touched Daryl that way. He'd scarred him up in plenty of other ways though. But never that.  
Still, in the end, it hadn't mattered because Daryl had still suffered the same way at the hands of others. I'd spared him nothing – I'd endured our father's nightly violations all for nothing.

The bond between us was unbreakable – I knew I could catch him off guard maybe, knock him out and restrain him and take against his will and he would still forgive me afterwards. Nothing I did could ever make him stop loving me. Furious with me, demanding space from me – sure. Especially now that he knew what I'd saved him from. I could have started off with him young enough and convinced him that he liked it. The boy had been so hungry for love and affection, he would have accepted it if I'd done it right...nice and slow and got him used to it. Not like Dad with me. But I'd never do that to him, even though I'd done it to others. Adults I mean – as sick as I was, I could safely say I'd never hurt a kid.  
He'd forgive me anything – even that, I knew but still I had never done that. Not through all the years of wanting him. Not to him.  
Never to him.  
Finally, nothing I'd done had mattered and in a moment of madness, he'd given himself to me yet the irony of it was clear to me. He'd still been hurt, tortured and forced by others. But he was bouncing back, not quite to what he was...he still flinched and cringed at loud or unexpected noises. Or startled if someone other than me touched him – even his arm.  
I reached down and lay a quick kiss on his hair. He must have sensed it in his sleep because he smiled and stirred a little, burrowing closer into me.  
'Fuck!' I hissed silently in my head. I needed to do what had to be done but how could I do it without waking him up. He'd try to stop me for sure.  
I had to kill Caesar. He hadn't been the one to hurt my brother but he'd joined in with us 'interrogating' plenty of others. The whens and whys of why the other scumbags had turned on him -I wasn't interested. He apparently chose to pretend to not know me...or maybe he was simply too traumatised to remember or terrified of me ...after all he'd just seen how I got revenge on the animal who had hurt my brother the most...I simply didn't give a shit but he was the one apart from Daryl who could rat me out to the group. Rick and some of the others were looking for any excuse to get rid of me and keep Daryl for themselves and me being exposed as a rapist and a brutal torturer and murderer was the perfect reason. The thought that I was no better than him didn't cross my mind...he was a threat to me and he had to die.  
'Daryl...' I whispered, trying to roll him gently off me. 'You're killin' my arm, baby brother.'  
He mumbled in his sleep as I tried to ease him off me. 'Easy does it...' I managed to get him off me without him waking. Boy was exhausted – still slept more than 8 hours a day - not like your typical Dixon at all - when he could get it, that was. I left him to it because I knew that it was his mind trying to heal itself. The people in the camp were understanding about it and left him to sleep if their noise going about their daily business didn't wake him up.  
'M...Merle?' He muttered, his eyelids fluttering.  
'It's OK...I'm here.' I soothed back his hair. 'Jus' goin' for a piss.'  
'Uh huh.' Don't be gone too long.' He turned his back to me to fall back to sleep without opening his eyes. I waited a minute or two for his breathing to get slow and deep before I backed out the tent. Making sure to take my hunting knife with me as I padded over to the Infirmary.  
Slipped in...saw Herschel's youngest girl sleeping by the patient. Or should I say 'prisoner'?  
I shook my head at the stupid joke inside my head.  
'Don't matter.' I thought grimly. 'He's dead either way.'  
I looked down at Beth, she really was a blonde bombshell. Young and sweet too – a virgin no doubt like her Daddy wanted her to be before married. Or maybe she was really a hot little vixen under that shy, innocent act she put on...those kind of girls – daughters of preachers and other religious folk could be the least restrained in bed. Part of the rebellion against their upbringing....I felt myself get hard but I couldn't let her blonde hair and full red lips distract me.  
I looked around for her protective Daddy...or anyone else who could disturb me. No sign of him. I had her for myself.  
I longed to reach down and run my fingers through her hair. And breathe in her scent because he hadn't touched a woman – willing or otherwise for so long. Just that, no hurting or anything else. A careful, respectful touch. Even so, I knew that she would jerk away from me in terror and revulsion, I knew with those long, dark eye-lashes fluttering in fear over those deep, sky- blue eyes full of things a girl so young shouldn't have seen. I knew she was scared of me – looked down on me like I was scum of the earth, no doubt. She avoided me, no doubt poisoned by her big sister and Maggie's fiance Glenn but I knew she was close to my sweet baby brother. Of course – he'd always been good with kids – probably would have made a good father one day – not like me- and they had that in common. I knew they looked after Judith together.  
I thought about closing my hand over her mouth. Whispering in her ear...'Sh...don't scream. Ain't gonna hurt ya, promise. Jus' somethin' I need to do.' She would struggle in my arms and unless I killed her, shut her up for good that way – she'd tell everyone what I'd done. It wouldn't matter if I tried to reason with her – tell her what the 'poor' man had done to those innocent men and women in the Governor's interrogation cells.  
No. I'd have to take the hard way out and hurt her. Gripping my knife, and keeping an eye on her and Caesar, lying there out of it, drugged up, I looked around for something to hit her with. Only to knock her out. Both were completely unaware...I guess she wasn't a light sleeper like me and Daryl were – didn't have to keep an ear out for her drunk Daddy stumbling into her room to beat the crap out of her. Or worse. Everyone knew about Herschel's struggle with the demon bottle but I guessed he'd never been a violent drunk.  
'Sorry, darlin'.' I whispered in her ear as I raised the crate over her head. 'Didn't want to have to hurt ya but can't take the risk of havin' you see.'  
That's when a blade was held to my own throat as whoever it was had crept up silently behind me. Who could have taken me unawares?  
'Don't ya hurt her!' My brother's gravelly voice snarled in my ear to answer my question. Because only a Dixon could take out another Dixon. 'Fuckin' drop it!''  
After I'd done what he ordered, still with neither the girl or the patient waking up, he glared at me as he yanked me outside the makeshift Infirmary back to our tent.  
'Shit Merle - what the fuck do ya think ya doin'?' His voice was filled with anger and disbelief. 'I've been tryin' to smooth things over between us and them so ya can stay and ya were goin' to attack Beth!'  
'I didn't want to but...listen.' I grabbed him and shook him. 'We have to kill Caesar!'  
He looked up at me in confusion. 'Who's...?'  
'The prisoner we found, damn it! He knows me...he knows...'  
'What ya did back in Woodbury?'  
'I would have taken care of him when we found him but I knew ya wouldn't have let me...'Sides, I didn't think he remembered me...too fucked up …'  
'So! NO! Ya can't jus' go around killin' people...'  
'Don't ya know what he did? Same as those evil bastards did to you!'  
Daryl glared at me with contempt, stinging me to the core. 'Fuckin' hypocrite...ya jus' like him. He was one of you...'  
'Do ya want him around the women...around Carol and Beth?' I countered.  
'Do I want you around them? Can I trust you? Didn't look like it jus' now...' He retorted, rounding on me then to my surprise and fisting his shirt as he shook him. 'Maggie and Glenn already think ya a rapist anyway...fuckin' hate ya guts. Rick doesn't like havin' ya around either – only puts up with ya sorry ass 'cos of me...If fuckin' poor Caesar opens mouth...who do ya think they're gonna believe? They'll kick ya out and I ain't leavin' my people.'  
Merle groaned and held his head in his hands. 'So, they're your people now are they? I swear I will never, ever...I didn't want to anyway but it would have looked funny if I hadn't joined in...'  
'Don't lie to me! Ya a fuckin' coward and a scumbag to boot, Merle.'  
'I know and sometimes I fuckin' hate myself...can't blame it all on Dad...'  
'No, ya fuckin' can't!' He almost screamed at me. Whatever he did doesn't make the shit ya done right!'  
'What are the fuck we gonna do?' My brother looked up as his anger finally faded away before he released me. 'We can't kill him and we can't let him live.'  
'Let's tell Rick..before Caesar gets to him. I'll tell him that he was one of the men who...who...I recognise him now...couldn't remember. Herschel says that's normal to not be able to remember everythin' straight away.'  
'He might as well have been...jus' wasn't there when you were. But he's guilty as hell.'  
'I can't believe I'm lyin' to a good man for a piece of shit like you!' He whirled around, temper fired up again and punched me in the face. Without thinking, I hit him right back until we tussled onto the floor.  
'Fuckin' hate ya, Merle!' Now he was sobbing as he ripped my clothes off me. I lay back and let him take control, if he needed to in order to vent his rage at me, I'd let him do anything. Then he was kissing me hard. I responded as I wound my arms around the back of his neck.  
'Ya scum of the earth!' I growled at this insult – thinking it was one too many as I yanked his hair back.  
'Yeah? And what are you? You fuck ya own brother!' I bit his lower lip brutally and licked his blood of his chin. 'What kind of pervert does that make you?'  
I'd let him have control long enough, now it was my turn as I pushed him onto his stomach onto the tent-floor. Luckily, we were far away from the others.  
I reached under him in a hurry to undo his belt and pull his jeans off him but he stayed my hand.  
'No.'  
'Come on.' I tried again. 'Ya'll like it, jus' like last time, promise.' I pulled him upright and reached around him to undress him from the front while I whispered what I planned to do to him in his ear, trying to excite him.  
Wrong thing to do – made him panic even more.  
'No, fuckin' stop!' He was crying again, this time in full-blown panic. I reached around but this time I pulled him onto my lap but him squirming there didn't help my raging hard-on.  
'It's OK.' I soothed. 'We don't have to...but ya kissed me, remember?'  
He was calmer now as I brushed back his hair. I took advantage of this to press my point home to get what I wanted.  
Why don't we leave? Solve the problem...they can't stand me...don't want me here, I'll never be one of them.' Not that I want to be, I silently added.  
'Well, I'm gonna make them fuckin' accept ya!' He dried his tears and pushed me away. 'Get the fuck off me! From now on, we're gonna act like normal.'  
'Fine.' I said and turned my back to him but he scooted over to me and I smiled as I felt him kiss the back of my neck as if in apology before I felt his hand grab mine briefly. That was before it snaked down between my legs. He was telling me in this way that he was sorry and that he still wanted to make me feel good, despite his words about acting 'normal' whatever that was because like it or not, we'd crossed a line we couldn't go back on. Not now or never.  
I let him do what he liked but made no move on him, knowing that being in control was what he was needing right now and that he didn't want to go the whole way – not tonight, any way. I didn't rule it out never happening again, though.  
I could sense him smile with satisfaction in the dark when he finally managed to make me shudder and cry out after torturing me with anticipation and stopping and starting again more times than I could count. Just to drag things out, the little shit. I bit my lip and held back, not protesting.  
After it was done, I reached back to grab his slick hand and kiss it in gratitude. Tasting myself on him before he wiped it on a rag.  
I knew then that we were OK again that we could deal with Caesar without killing him and let Rick shoulder the responsibility of what to do with him. We weren't really lying after all – Caesar had been one of our gang just that he hadn't been one of the bastards who hurt Daryl. If I was the leader of the group, I'd tie him to a tree out in the wild and let the Walkers dine on him but that was me.


	16. Chapter 16

Daryl

A few days later, we'd still done nothing about Caesar who was still (pretending?) not to remember anything. He still hadn't left the makeshift infirmary either. This was very weird because it wasn't like Dixons to dither on taking action.  
Maybe the both of us were sick of the killing. Maybe Caesar was bad like Merle said, had joined in the gang-rapes of prisoners down at Woodbury but it seemed like he'd sure got his come-uppance. Because in the end, they'd turned on him and used him as their slut. Apparently, he was broken completely. My brother of course, was worried about what he could say about him, what he'd seen going on in Woodbury. He was still a risk to us because I wanted us to stay here. Anyway, in what ways  
We would deal with him when the time came.  
That night, he'd tried to his luck with me, kissing me and touching me all over – tentatively at first but soon growing bolder until I slammed him back down and grabbed him by the throat. Almost throttled him.  
'No!' I snarled. 'Ain't lettin' ya.'  
He groaned in frustration and slid back down to the tent-floor again. He looked so crest-fallen I took pity on him and straddled him before changing my mind and putting my bare knee in between him. Kissed him hard and tweaking his nipples to make him let out a long quiet groan and let himself dry-hump against me but afterwards, I felt sick like we'd done something wrong. Especially when I had to go outside immediately and wash his cum off me with water from our bucket. Wish the fucking guilt would go away sometime because we weren't hurting anyone.  
Only ourselves. And I couldn't forget how he was the only willing apart from Glen to go near me after they found me at Woodbury. Like I was a dangerous wild animal in captivity or contaminated by the place or something.  
'Fuckin' pervert.' I muttered in disgust. 'Jus' cos ya can't keep ya dick in ya pants.' Behind me, I didn't know then but there was someone who heard and saw this. Someone who liked to skulk around and spy. That was if they understood who I was talking about or what I was doing.  
Blissfully in ignorance, I thought was this always the way it was going to be now? Until one of us found a girlfriend? Until he found a woman willing to l his considerable needs in the sack?

I rushed in to find Merle with Beth apparently out cold with no other signs of injury as her head lolled and my brother leering, quickly unbuttoning her blouse. Just as he was aware of me, I saw him dip one hand to cup one of her breasts while he nuzzled her neck. I could see that he was drooling. I was too shocked at first, even after everything I had seen and froze in my tracks. As soon as he was aware of me, he tore his hands away from her like they were burning and blushed scarlet. Merle blushing? Impossible! Was my next crazy thought.  
'Get away from her!' I hissed, not wanting to draw anyone's attention. What the fuck are ya doin' to her, ya piece of shit? Why's she out? Did ya hit her?' I tried to keep my voice quiet as possible but the rage was pulsing through my veins and I just wanted to drag him out of there and give him the thrashing of his life. One worse than Dad ever gave us.  
'He looked back at me and grinned evilly. 'Well, you won't let me fuck ya, none of the other broads around here will either so what's a guy to do, huh? He stuck his tongue out obscenely at me and licked all round his mouth while he stroked his crotch between his splayed legs suggestively at me. I turned away in disgust, not wondering for the first time what I'd let out of the bottle the time I let fuck me.'  
'Was only gonna touch and jerk off, not do any real hurtin' anyway..' I turned back to when he said this and narrowed my eyes with suspicion.  
I didn't quite believe him. Asshole had a big enough sex-drive for the both of us. Always had but before all this, I knew he would never have sunk to this. Rape. Or hurt a girl for all his tough words. Guess there was a lot of things we thought we wouldn't do before the whole fucking world ended.  
'Merle!' I glanced quickly around to see if anyone heard and saw that the patient was apparently unharmed. Looked like he was sleeping or pretending, totally unaffected about what was going on around him.  
I'd come here to save him from what I thought my brother had planned but apparently Merle's lust had got side-tracked.  
'Ya a fuckin' scumbag!' I hissed. 'Ya must have done somethin' to put her out cold'  
'Found her like that.' To his credit, Merle looked shame-faced as he let her go. Quickly buttoned up her clothes and stroked her hair before he let her go. I swear I heard him whisper 'I'm sorry.' into her hair before he put her gently back down on the chair while I glared daggers at him.  
'Get the fuck away from her! And him!' I motioned to the patient who had managed to sleep through all this ruckus. Probably because Herschel had drugged him high and dry.  
Merle grinned sheepishly but didn't take any notice of me. Stayed right where he was by Beth's chair next to the bed.  
'Jus' as I thought.' He murmured and brought something out hidden from under it 'Seems like she's Daddy's little girl alright. Weak. Can't take the pressure.' He brought the bottle of cheap whisky and took a swig. He turned to her and addressed her quietly snoring form. 'Ya should be more careful in future darlin', 'cos there are plenty of perverts out there, 'specially now, who'll take advantage of a hot little chick like you.'  
I stared at him in disbelief at his hypocrisy. Had he really lost it? No, he was mocking me and her. Typical Merle. Yet part of me sensed that he was sickened at himself at how depraved he'd become.  
'Want some?' He added, offering me the hall-full bottle.  
'No! What I want is to beat ya fuckin' brains out.' But still I made no move. I was worried about waking someone up and them coming here and finding this touching little scene. Yet, there was nothing to see – only that Beth had drunk herself unconscious.  
'What? Liar!' I hissed and crossed the short distance between us and pushed him away from her.  
I put out two fingers to check the pulse in her throat and check her breathing before I left to grab him by his shirt and drag him outside. But he was standing there as if mesmerised.  
'Get outta here before someone finds us.'  
'What about him? We could get rid of one problem. Maybe he's only pretending to sleep and he saw everything.' My brother went over to him threateningly while I hissed over Beth's head to stop him.  
I was thinking it over...how much the bastard was hanging over us.  
I hesitated, wondering if we could do it in cold blood. Merle said he was one of those who had done those despicable things...but then wasn't he the same? Should I put my own brother down like a dog, especially after what I'd seen him doing to Beth? All it showed that he hadn't changed. I was going to have to deal with him when we were alone again.  
Just then, maybe she saved the situation by fluttering her eyes and moaning. She didn't look like she was awake yet but still, we should leave. And what should we do with the bottle?  
I knew what Merle was going to do with it – he was taking it with him. Maybe she wouldn't remember or maybe she would panic because she thought someone found it.  
'Too late.' I mouthed at him hoping that if she remembered, she would just think we were part of a dream.'Let's go.' I motioned towards the door and heard him pad silently after me. I was going to intending to thrash this out between us.  
….  
As soon as we were alone outside and away from the others' tents, I drew back my fist and gave him a right-hook without warning him. He staggered back, his mouth bleeding. I didn't give him a chance to recover and attacked him while he was still reeling.  
'Fuckin' filthy pervert! Beth maybe havin' problems but she's a sweet kid and didn't deserve to have ya filthy paws all over her!'  
'Well, if ya so worried, maybe ya'd like to keep me satisfied and in line so I don't have to do shit like that. Ya know how, son.' He leered at me!  
'Brother-fuckin' fucker!' I screamed back in rage and I must have got in about 5 or 6 punches before he started fighting back. Unusual for him but maybe he wanted to be punished, felt guilty. I hoped so.  
'Do ya know what ya nearly did!' I was on top of him now on the grass, shaking him.  
'So what?' He roared back. 'She wouldn't remember!' But his eyes slid away, making me think that he didn't really buy this.  
'Merle!' I cried out and suddenly sunk against him, burying my face into his chest. 'How could ya...do what those animals did to me? What Dad...Dad did...?'  
'I...I don't know.' He hissed in pain from the ribs I'd bruised no doubt when he shifted me against him so I was lying in a more comfortable position for him before he arms went around me.  
'I don't know.' He repeated winding one hand in my hair and tugging it gently.  
'Ya a fuckin' asshole!' I reached up and thumped hard against his chest. 'Don't know why I don't tell them all the things ya did..think they'll want ya after what ya did to Beth?'  
'Sh...' He folded me back down against him with his arms. For once I couldn't feel his hard-on poking into me. Surprising when I was this close to him and knowing that he'd always wanted me.  
'Ya pull that kind of stunt again – hurt anyone in our group and we're fuckin' over. I'll jus' go with them and leave ya behind.' But did he believe me because my voice was wavering. He knew that I would love him no matter what he did. Well, almost anything he did.  
'I know.' He kissed the top of my hair. 'Jus' don't know who I am any more. Or what the fuck I am. I fucked my own baby brother, what does that say about me?'  
'Merle, what did they do to ya? To make ya like them?'  
He shuddered under me and I sensed him take a double take that I couldn't see because I'd buried my head into his shirt. He held me a while and moved his fingers slowly up and down through my hair before he started to get antsy, then he grunted and pushed me off him. 'Well, I'm gonna change. I would never have done that shit – used to think guys who did that kind of shit were the scum of the earth.' He resolutely stood up and dusted himself off.  
'I can change. Get back to how I used to be.' He turned away to lead the way back to our tent.  
'I can.' But it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than me. Leaving me to wonder if they'd done worse to him. The thugs in Woodbury – his so-called 'buddies' and Dad before that.  
How could I think that?  
They'd made him lose himself. This Caesar was one of them.  
With that, without telling him, I sneaked back to the Infirmary. I heard him turn around and call to me when he realised that I wasn't coming to bed and I waved him off.  
He kept on walking without looking back.


	17. Chapter 17

TTWH 17

Sorry it's been a long time...I've been busy. 

Daryl

i.

I was going to do something about Caesar, save my brother even if he didn't deserve it. Even if he'd lost it! But I could try and get him back just like he'd brought me back. Merle had finally told me that he was one of the Governor's henchmen and had joined in the things that they did to me and others but I didn't remember him. So maybe he wasn't there because but he was still guilty. Then the tables had turned and they'd turned on him like dogs on a cruel master. Karma was a bitch.  
I couldn't help feeling a grim sense of satisfaction at what had happened to him although I knew deep inside that no-one deserved the things they would do.  
Besides, Merle was my brother! The only family I had left and I knew if it came between him and the group who I would choose. Would have to choose. Even leave Carol and Rick. So this sad sucker didn't stand a chance in my priorities.  
I knew what Dad did to him but that wasn't any excuse to become like him. He was going to need my help .  
I stalked my way to the infirmary tent but halted outside at the sound of raised voices. Herschel's and Beth's. Was she telling him what my sicko brother was doing to her?   
I listened. No, he was berating her.  
'How could ya fall asleep? Ya sleep all day, as it is, girl?'  
'Daddy, I didn't mean...I didn't hear him stop breathin'!'  
'Call yaself a nurse! Ya a disgrace!'  
She started crying at that. I'd never heard him speak so harshly to either of his daughters before.  
I could stand it no longer but coughed loudly and strode in.  
Beth blushed bright red and I glanced down to see the edge of the bottle under the bed.   
'Lay off her, will ya, Doc? What's happened?' I glanced over at the bed. The 'patient' was stiff and cold, silent with no sign of his chest going up and down.  
Beth gave me a small grateful smile and sucked it up.  
'Daryl.' He seemed to notice me for the first time. 'How long ya been there, son?'  
'He dead?' I jerked my head over to where the corpse lay.  
'Yeah, he is.' Herschel sighed and threw the cloth he was winding around in his hand away in rage.  
I struggled to hide the relief for my brother. Problem solved. It came from knowing that he was a bad man and seriously, I didn't know why Rick was keeping him alive. Well, I did – he saw him as a victim of the Governor like I was and he'd let his feelings run away with him when really, they didn't no shit about the guy.   
'Does Rick know?'  
'Not yet. I only jus' came in to take over from Beth and found him dead.'  
'It's not my fault, Daddy!' She cried out. 'I only fell asleep for a minute, I was jus' so tired.'  
He sighed. 'I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry I yelled.'  
I said nothing even though I knew it wasn't true. Either she didn't remember or she told herself that this happened. She did look exhausted, black bags under her eyes and pale.   
'Do we know how he died?' I went over to the body and examined it for injuries. I found none and I knew that he'd been alive when Merle was molesting Beth.  
'No idea. It looks like he just passed away. We'll never know now without a post-mortem and even if I could perform one, we ain't got the equipment.'  
'Yeah? Ya sure 'bout that?'  
I took out my hunting knife.  
He saw what I was going to do and blocked my way. 'Don't be hasty, son. Wait until Rick gets here and makes a decision.'  
I stopped in my tracks. 'Why?'  
'We jus' should.'  
I shrugged and backed off. Really, it didn't matter to me.  
Rick came rushing in. Someone had told him what had happened.  
'He dead?' Was his first question.  
Herschel sighed. 'Yes. Passed away in the night.'  
Beth nodded. 'That's what happened – I must have dropped off for like ...a minute.'  
Rick didn't even blame Beth, after all everyone thought he was on the mend and as far as they knew, she'd just fallen asleep. I hoped that they didn't find the bottle. I guess they could believe it was Herschel's and that he'd fallen off the wagon again if Beth argued.  
'Do we know why?' Rick looked at me like I should know.  
'Yeah – I was jus' gonna open up his stomach.'  
'Do it.'   
I took out my knife and slit up his stomach. Beth looked like she was going to be sick and ran out. I ignored her and carried on. Neither of them were squeamish anymore, I'd taught Rick how to track and open animals and Walker's guts to look for body parts they might have eaten when we were looking for Sophia.  
I examined his stomach's contents after putting on gloves of course while they wrinkled their noses against the smell. Me – I barely noticed.  
After a few minutes poking around I couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.  
'I dunno.' I told them. 'Maybe he was hurt pretty bad and we didn't know.'  
'Could be possible.' Herschel mused. 'Though I ain't qualified to say. No sign so far of internal bleedin'.'  
'Poor bastard.' Rick shook his head. 'To be tortured by those animals then die. He barely spoke.  
'Maybe it was for the best.' I spoke up and they stared at me. 'Well – I mean, we don't know what kind of man he was.'  
'But they were ….they were....' Herschel looked at me uncomfortably, unable to finish his sentence.  
I nodded. 'Yeah – ya can say it. They were fuckin' him but don't mean he was a good guy, though. Merle thinks he recognises him...from when he was at Woodbury. Guy was a real charmer – not.'  
'Still, we could have at least given him the chance to fit in...' Herschel added.  
'Leave it. What's done is done.' Rick was final. 'He was just using up our resources anyway and if ya say we're not sure if he was one of us or not.'  
'Well-said.' I added. 'We gonna bury him or not?' I got the spade, ready to start digging.  
'We should at least have a funeral...' Herschel said.  
And we did, later on. Merle wasn't there, of course and I came up witurh some excuse to be with my brother. Dixons had never been into all that religious crap anyway and I thought I'd done my bit by burying the guy.  
…..  
ii.  
Daryl

While the funeral was going on, I was in the tent with him. I was listening to his heartbeat while he twirled his fingers in my hair.   
'So, ya told'em?' He nudged me.  
'Yeah.' I was sleepy and lay my head back down on his chest. 'Rick's usually so careful about who he lets in...Ya sure ya didn't do nothin' to him?'  
'No...when I saw Beth...passed out like that, got myself all distracted. Forgot about whackin' the bastard.'  
I rose my head and thumped him. 'Ya leave her alone, ya hear! Ya touch her again and I'll end ya.'  
He chuckled and ruffled my hair. 'I'm sorry about what I did! Must have lost it there...Only messin' with ya. I know the difference between right and wrong, ya know.'  
I stared up at him because I wasn't sure that he did know anymore. 'Jus' wonderin' if anyone else has noticed her little drinkin' problem?' He wondered out loud.  
'She's punishin' herself as it is. For a piece of shit like that...she thinks she let him die.'  
'Well, ya jus' gonna have to convince her otherwise, ain't ya, boy? Hey, why don't ya two hook up, after you've made her feel better, of course?'  
'Don't be stupid, Merle.' But I was relieved that we we talking about normal brother stuff like girls and he'd forgotten all about screwing me. For today, anyway.  
'Ya an asshole, Merle. She's too young anyway, jus' a kid.'  
'Too young for what?' He leered down at me and chuckled dirtily.  
'Besides, Herschel and Rick would kill me.' I blushed and turned away. I'd never thought about Beth in that way...to me, she was just a slightly older version of Judith.   
'But she's hot...'  
'Yeah, maybe.' I shrugged. 'What about you and Andrea?'  
That got him because he thought I didn't know.  
'Why ya little...' This led to a wrestling match and I won, or more likely, he let me win and ended up on top, straddling him.  
'Come here.' He laughed and pulled me down and held me tight. 'Go to sleep.'  
I sighed and had the best nap during the day I'd ever had without bad dreams for a long time. We fell asleep to the sound of the others singing a hymn...I vaguely recognised the tune but damn if we actually knew what it was called.

 

'


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks everyone for your really great reviews on FanFic, you spur me on! They made my day. I'm thinking that I'm going to wrap my other two stories with one or two finishing chapters and just focus on this one.

TTWH 18

i  
Daryl

I woke up the morning after the funeral right on cue as the light streamed through the walls of the sky blue tent with my big brother's arms wrapped tightly around me like they always were since Woodbury. I didn't know what the hell we looked like if we didn't look like a pair of fags – not that I had a problem with gays as long as they kept their hands and their dicks to themselves and didn't touch me. But then I knew that most of the animals who attacked me would have said they were straight, probably complete with a trail of dead wives or girlfriends if anyone who didn't know what were had asked them.  
Merle was snoring like a diesel engine in my ear. God knows how I managed to fall asleep in the first place. He was always such a hog.  
'Get off me.' I growled and he spluttered. As usual, I was feeling smothered and fighting back the beginnings of the familiar panic that threatened to pull me under even though it was him. My brother and I was OK now.  
He stirred in his sleep and tried to pull me closer. I pushed him off and slipped away.   
'Where ya goin', baby brother?' He half-mumbled sleepily and reaching for me with his arms. 'Ya barely let me touch ya before...'  
'Before I got gang-raped? Ya know why!' I said the word aloud for the first time and it felt good.  
He winced despite himself when I said those words and was wide awake then, looking contrite – a rare look for him. 'I didn't mean …'  
Yeah.' I snarled back. 'Yeah, ya did.' Part of me really believed that he was glad that what had happened to me left me needing him. Had he taken advantage of that? I just couldn't help lashing out at him.  
'Daryl! I didn't mean...' He got up on his elbows. 'Come back!'  
'Give me some space, Merle.' With that I unzipped the tent and slipped out. I was in a pissy mood and it wasn't really my brother's fault.

...  
'  
I was sitting outside having a smoke when Beth came and sat next to me when she'd always glanced at me sideways with a little scared deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look. I rolled my eyes mentally because I wasn't looking for company just then, had escaped my big brother for a while and I could tell that she was feeling guilty and needed some reassurance. I remembered defending her to her Dad – she must have read more into it than I thought.Plus, I knew what I did was the reason for it. She thought she'd killed that piece of shit. I thought it was weird because she didn't normally seek me out – was always just on the periphery sometimes when I hung out with Glen and Maggie. Didn't speak much but her big baby-doll eyes would be watching her elders and soaking everything we talked about. She was hungry for experiences of all kinds, I could tell.  
At age 17, she must think I was ancient – not quite as old as her old man but still fucking old even though Merle was always telling me that I looked young for my age. Didn't believe him though because I knew that his flattery always had an ulterior motive.  
'Do ya mind if I join you?' She tossed her hair and sat a few feet away from me.   
I bit back my initial reaction which was to snap, 'Do I have a choice?' and merely nodded and grunted at her. Even offered her a cigarette which she declined like I knew she would. The little precious princess wouldn't do anything her Daddy and big sis told her not to do.  
'I don't know what to do and I have such a stinkin' headache.' She rubbed her temples with her fingertips.  
'Well, then ya shouldn't drink so much ya pass out.' I hissed, not looking at her. I knew it was a low blow but then again, she should have left me alone like she usually did.  
She recoiled. 'Daryl...'  
'Yeah, I know.' I said, hopefully without judgement in my voice. 'I know ya been drinkin'.'  
She turned on me and I flinched as she yanked my arm. I yanked it just as violently back and moved further away from her. 'Get off me.' I snarled.  
' I'm sorry.' She replied meekly. 'I jus' want to know ...how do ya know?'I turned around to glare at her. 'Jus' know. Don't need to tell you how.'   
'Does anyone else?' She whispered, worried now. Had she noticed the missing bottle he'd swiped from her...did she even remember it?'  
'Only Merle. He ain't gonna tell no-one.'  
'Fuck!' She hissed and now it was my turn to stare at her in surprise. I didn't say anything though but just raised my eyebrow.  
She sagged and buried her head in her hands. 'I do it ...jus' 'cos sometimes I feel so bad...can still their faces...my family, comin' out in that barn.' She started to weep piteously. 'Then, I...I ...need t drink to sleep, get the images out of my head.'  
I turned around and just glared at her. Eyes hard. Because what did she want? Pity? We'd all been through shit and lost people along the way. Well, maybe me not really. I hadn't lost any blood-kin that I gave a shit about. There was only my brother. But maybe him dying would have been more merciful because I had lost him.   
Because he'd lost himself.  
I thought about shaking her until her teeth rattled and some sense came into her head. But that would mean touching her and the thought of that freaked me out right then.  
'What do ya want? Think ya the only one who has pictures in their head that they don't want to see every night before they fall asleep?'  
'No..but...' She blushed furiously because she'd forgotten what happened to me while wallowing in her guilt.  
'Suck it up.' I knew I was being mean but I just didn't have the energy to deal with her petty teenage crises right now. Had my own problems. Like how to control my crazy brother and his sick sexual urges.   
'You're a fuckin' bastard, jus' like ya brother! I thought ya were better than him!' She leapt up in anger.  
I stared at her in surprise, not because of what she said because I'd never heard her swear before.  
Yeah, ya don't know how right ya are. I raised my eyebrows at her as she rounded on me with fists clenched and I was pleased to see the fire in her eyes. She was showing some backbone at last.  
'Ya gonna run away now or sit down and talk to me then?' The words were out of my throat before I had time to think about them and stop them. Sit down and talk to me then? When all I wanted was to be left alone to my own thoughts. Sort out my feelings about brother and what we did. Everything we did even if he'd stopped trying to get into my pants. So where did that come from? Too late to take it back.  
She wiped her eyes and just stood there, looking at me and looking back towards the camp where her family and friends were. Clearly undecided whether to stay with this rough redneck man who yelled abuse at her or to stay and talk about whatever was on her mind.  
Didn't matter, I knew what it was and it wasn't only about the drinking although the two were connected.  
'I'm sorry.' She sat down again with still enough space between us to fit another person. Fine by me.  
I blew out some smoke circles before I stubbed out the end on the grass.  
'Daryl...'  
'Yeah?'  
'When Caesar died, I was passed out drunk. If I'd been watchin' him...'   
'Ya think ya could have saved him? Didn't ya Dad say that it was a natural death and not to worry?'  
'But...but I don't understand because he was gettin' better!'  
'And ya feel guilty. But believe me, ya wouldn't if ya knew the things he did. Merle told me he'd heard rumours flyin' around that place about what the bastard did with his friends to prisoners.'  
I stubbornly tried to protect him through this lie. Didn't tell her that he was one of them.  
She let out a small sound of distress when I'd thought (maybe hoped) that she wouldn't understand what I was getting at. Turned out she did.  
'That shouldn't matter. Daddy says you should treat people all the same and make them better if you can 'cos we are all human. Hippocratic Oath.'  
I couldn't help scoff at her childish and naïve view of people and especially of the world we now lived in.  
'Yeah...some of us are. So...' I drawled, feeling like this could get interesting and maybe talking to a little girl wouldn't bore me rigid, 'If he was the Governor, do you think we should treat him, patch him up and let him go on his merry way? So he could come back with backup and kill us all?'  
I turned to her as I rolled another, taking my sweet time. Letting her think about this conundrum.   
She was pondering the problem deeply so I decided to give her another push.   
'Do some people deserve to be saved and others to die? Who decides?'  
'God decides.' She answered without hesitation.  
'So, if they...really hurt ya and ya sister - let's say violated ya both (she went white at this word like I knew she would) - but somehow they don't manage to kill ya and you see them again doing it to someone else, is it OK for you to kill them? Would it be for revenge or self-defence to stop them from doing it again to you?'  
I didn't realise but I was trying to seek the opinion of a teenager – an unworldly one at that- to make me feel better for what we did to Jones and his crew. Now to their victim, Caesar. But Caesar (according to Merle) hadn't always been a victim. He'd joined in with them and enjoyed it.  
'I don't know! I didn't know he was bad! If he was such a threat to the group, why didn't you or Merle tell us?'  
'Ya still ain't answered my question.'  
'I don't know! How should I know what's right or wrong? Anyway, since when did you become such a philosopher anyway?'  
'Get out of here, kid.' I shooed her away but not too unkindly. 'I need some time alone. Jus' sayin' I don't think ya should waste ya time feelin' guilty for that piece of shit, is all.' I gratefully took another deep inhale and blew out more corn-circles in the air.  
She left without a word but I noticed that there was a definite skip in her walk when she'd slumped over her, all slow and dejected.  
Had I done that? Made someone feel better, lightened their load?

 

 

 

'


	19. Chapter 19

TTWH 19

Meanwhile, the person who had been watching the camp for sometime, waiting to make their move watched the pretty blonde girl leave the Dixon. Looked like they were getting cosy, she had looked upset and he couldn't hear what he said to her but apparently he'd been trying to make her feel better.  
He wondered how much Merle had told his brother, probably had been filling him with poisonous lies and he decided that it was time to make his presence known. Besides, his joints were getting arthritic and strong as he still was, the pain in his knee was a bitch when you had to hunt for survival. Damp and cold weather like it had been lately didn't help either. Normally, he would have preferred to stay alone but he hadn't known that his sons were still alive. And together and not zombies.  
Then again they were Dixons and anything less would have been an insult to him and his name.  
Because eventually, to survive this new world, you had to find your group. Even Dixons had to.  
His eyes narrowed as he saw Merle approach his brother and jerk his head to the woods. Where he was crouched down watching. Clearly, he was asking him to go on a hunt - he'd even bought Daryl's crossbow with him.  
His eyes narrowed in suspicion as Merle took Daryl's hand as soon as they were far enough from the camp like he remembered them doing when he was a toddler. But they weren't children any more.  
What are ya up to with him, Merle?   
His mind whirled because he'd always known. Merle was as sick as he was...he just had to hope that Daryl remained untouched by the Dixon sickness.  
That's when they stopped and caught sight of him. Dead in their tracks although he thought he was well-hidden – another sign of his deteriorating tracking abilities and with them, his mental faculties.  
Will Dixon grunted and got up to his feet, doing his best to conceal the sharp pain from his right knee that was creaking in protest.  
'Well, well. Bet ya thought I was dead, didn't you, boys?'  
'Ya mean hoped ya were, you bastard.' Incredibly, it was Daryl who spoke when if their father remembered correctly, he usually let Merle do the talking. Little, shy Daryl. While Merle backed off behind his brother like he'd seen a ghost. Which in a way, Will guessed he had.  
'Now, now, that's not the way to greet ya father after years apart. No mail, not even a phone-call in all that time. Don't I even get a hug, Daryl?  
Will half-mockingly held out his arms but Daryl spat at him. 'I know what ya did.' Like the Dixon he was raised, Daryl didn't waste words getting right down to the nitty-gritty. Will smirked exactly like Merle did sometimes.  
'Daryl...' Merle had recovered somewhat as he put a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder.  
'Pretty girl ya were jus' talkin' to. That ya girlfriend, son?' Will ignored Merle  
'A bit young for me, ain't she?' He snarled back with open scorn. 'We don't all like to fuck kids. Ya stay away from her. And us.' Daryl snarled back making his father actually flinch. So he told ya then Will thought but didn't say. His son's words had left no room for doubt.  
'Come on, Merle.' Daryl pulled his arm.  
Merle turned back and gave his father a hard look but didn't say anything.  
'What if he follows us?' Will heard him ask Daryl like he was the little brother now. Merle sounded so young. Could seeing his father again do that to him?   
Daryl shrugged and spoke deliberately loudly. 'Then we kill him.' There was a new hardness in his voice that hadn't been in there before the events at Woodbury as he turned back to their father.   
Meanwhile, Will stamped his feet in rage and suppressed the urge to yell after them. Order them to stop and face him. He hadn't expected this need to not be alone. Well, the rejection was more than likely but Merle telling Daryl their little secret? He couldn't believe it – something must have happened because he knew how protective Merle was of his little brother. In fact, that's what he'd counted on when he'd started. Yet all that had happened years ago!  
'Come on.' Daryl urged his brother again looking back to check the old bastard wasn't following them. 'Let's get in our tent.' He could see Merle was shaking and having trouble breathing, like he used to.  
They got some curious looks as Daryl was forced to half-carry his brother.  
Despite their dislike of the older Dixon, Rick and Carol shot them concerned glances as they came out of the woods with no prey.  
'He OK?'  
'Yeah...jus' got a slight fever, I reckon.' Daryl called back. 'He was feelin' faint.'  
'I'll make ya pay for that.' Merle muttered darkly while Daryl grinned.  
'Take him to the Infirmary.' Rick ordered. 'Check it's not contagious.'  
Daryl didn't answer, intending not to obey but he didn't want Rick to know that because Merle's sudden illness was more of the psychological kind and not catching.  
'Come on, bro. Ya embarrassin' me.' Merle grinned weakly at that and it was like he really was sick.  
'Sh...' Daryl helped him lay down. 'This all because we saw Dad again?' He whispered.  
Merle looked pale as he nodded.  
Daryl decided to push him gently. ''Cos of what he did?'  
'Is he still there?' Merle pushed his head out of their tent worriedly but no-one was there. So, he put his head back in and did the zip back up.  
'Jesus! I've never seen ya like this before.'   
'Yeah? I never saw ya act like ya did after they rescued ya from Woodbury.'  
Daryl punched him on the nose for that. 'Asshole!'  
Merle looked at him sheepishly. 'Sorry...shouldn't have mentioned that...'  
'No, ya fuckin' shouldn't have!'  
Merle turned away and buried his head in his knees. He was shaking like crazy when Daryl thought he was the only sissy in the family prone to panic attacks.  
'Merle....' Daryl put his hand on his shoulder.  
'Get off me. Merle shrugged it off. 'Is he still out there?' He lifted his head.  
'He ain't comin' back. I told him to get lost.'  
'Oh, yeah? Ya think that's gonna stop him?'  
'I won't let him near ya. Promise.'  
'P...P...Promise?' Merle looked up at him with big, blue eyes and it was freaking Daryl out. Where had his tough, reliable big brother gone?'  
'Merle, snap the fuck out of it!' He gave him a rough shake. 'Is this all because Dad came back?'  
He didn't answer but his shaking got worse.  
'Come here.' Now it was Daryl who put his arm around his brother. 'I'll kill him if it'll make ya feel better.'   
Merle snorted at that and looked up. But now he looked more like himself.   
'I mean it, Merle!'  
Merle chuckled, a rapid change in his mood and chucked his brother under his chin. 'You? My sweet little brother?'  
Daryl released him and grinned back. Yes, it had been a real shock for both of them to see him again when they thought he must have died. Turned out that they had underestimated the old bastard.  
'Merle...what if he hurts the group?'  
He opened his mouth to answer because Rick was unzipping their tent after calling out a warning.  
'Daryl! Merle! Ya in there? I got news for ya.'  
'Oh yeah?' Daryl leaned back on his elbows, wondering how much of their conversation the leader had heard.  
'There's a man outside sayin' he's ya father! Will Dixon, right?' Rick was nervous and it showed in his voice, after all he didn't know how they would react. A few people knew about the scars on Daryl's back and guessed how they got there.  
'Yeah. Must be him. Tell him we'll be out in a minute.' Merle saved him from awkwardness.  
'Fuckin' asshole!' He hissed to Daryl as soon as Rick was out of earshot. 'We should have killed him while we had the chance!'  
….  
They were sitting around the campfire and the atmosphere was muted, to say the least. Nobody was really happy about another Dixon who wasn't Daryl in their midst and Merle wondered why Rick wasn't being careful like he was with all new arrivals and vetting him out carefully. If he knew what he was...  
Thinking about that, Merle involuntarily shuddered and couldn't help but put his arms around his brother and draw him to sit between his legs, even if it did draw some curious looks because he hadn't done that for a while. Not least from their father who raised his eyebrows but wasn't stupid enough to challenge him.  
Merle sneered back and tried to tell him with his eyes that he was a soon to be dead man.  
Everyone else, however, was being extremely polite, even Will. After all, he was being fed and watered and sheltered for free. Daryl noticed wryly that he even said thank-you when Andrea passed him his bowl of food.  
People did their best to ignore him – when he wasn't looking, Andrea, Carol and Maggie glared at him while Rick did his best to keep his face impassive.  
Every time Will tried to open up conversation with his sons, mainly with Daryl – like what they'd been doing the ten years that he hadn't seen them before the zombie apocalypse, he was shot down by their one word replies or grunts. Telling him clearly that they didn't want to talk to him.  
Carol exchanged looks with Rick and Herschel – there was going to be a meeting tomorrow about what to do with the oldest Dixon. If he would be an asset or an added burden. More importantly, perhaps, whether he could be trusted but if he was upsetting the boys, especially Daryl, he should go.   
Of course, they should be asked first. He was their father after all.  
….  
Later, as the group around the fire broke up, Merle looked back and saw something that gave him the chills.   
Their father was bent down talking to Carl, fuck knows what he was saying to him, looking for all the world like a harmless grandfather. But that wasn't it...it was when his fingers brushed the boy's trouser leg as if by accident...except Merle knew that it wasn't, there was something dangerously familiar about that. He looked around to see if any of the others had seen, especially the boy's father but Rick was distracted, talking to Carol and Herschel.  
Unwrapping his arms from around his brother, who'd he been holding tightly, Merle was about to to go over there and shove his Dad away from the boy but then Herschel went over to tell him about his accommodation arrangements. Merle sighed with relief when he realised that he wouldn't have to deal with him.  
'Come on.' He barked a little sharply at his brother. Daryl frowned but trotted after him obediently. 

Merle was back to being big brother again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive comments and reviews...yes, I'm aiming at disturbing and creepy. But then it's Daddy Dixon!

The next day, Will Dixon groaned as he woke up in the spare tent they'd kindly given him with a thumping headache even though he'd only drunk a couple of glasses from the whiskey they passed around the campfire, grudgingly letting him have some. The booze had been a long time coming and he had watched his sons refuse the communal wine (as he called it) and drink their own, nasty moonshine, no doubt. Merle was proud about what kind of devil's brew he let pass his lips and his brother's. He'd tried to ignore Merle's hateful stare that had a glimmer of fear hidden under the depths if you knew him well enough to look, telling him with his eyes silently to crawl away and just die. So in the end, he gave up trying to have conversation with them.   
Will realised that Merle wanted him dead. But he had a weak link – Daryl. He'd always been the sweet one. Had Merle really told him about the special father and son time they'd shared together? Judging by his younger son's lashing out at him as soon as he laid eyes on him again – the vicious things he'd said and implied - Will guessed he had.   
His mind went back to last night and the day before...something had changed between them...the way Merle touched Daryl and coddled him between his legs last night round the fire...even holding his hand in the woods – all of it was unnatural. But none of the group seemed to notice or be surprised at this faggish behaviour, leaving Will to conclude that something must have happened to Daryl. Something bad enough that had made Merle even more protective than usual and baby him unashamedly in the open like that. What could it be? Not so surprising in this new world they had woken up to where the other living people were often worse than the dead.   
He had to get Daryl on his own, make the boy see sense. Get him to talk to Merle and persuade him to let him stay. Because what if they told the group his little secret? But Will didn't really think they would, his shame was their shame too and when you're a Dixon, most people look down at you before you even open your mouth.  
He looked over at Carl who didn't look a thing like Merle or Daryl at his age. Merle had been blonde – Will smiled when he remembered that hair – those fair locks that had tempted him. Despite what he'd threatened the boy with to make him lie down and open his legs (so to speak), he would never have hurt Daryl that way because Merle was special. Came with filthy thoughts in his head the day he was born no doubt and had an insatiable libido to match. So Will hadn't felt guilty about what he'd done...the boy should have been grateful that he held off all those years because he wouldn't have done anything in front of their Mama. When she died, the boys were fair play and his to do what he wanted with.  
Will shook his head as he took all of 12 year old Carl in over by the campsite water-pump. Being a good boy and filling up the pitcher for his parents. He knew that he was being obvious but he just couldn't tear his eyes away. The boy was tall and lanky-limbed but would be well-built when he was grown. Bright blue eyes that stood out from his tan that was just enough to give him a healthy glow. He was clumsy too, Will thought as he nearly dropped the big jug and didn't look comfortable in his own body. The oldest Dixon left smiled gently because he was thinking about he could help him with that problem.  
He didn't know where these sick desires came from. With an effort, he stopped staring at the boy before he got noticed and focused on the task at hand.   
Get Daryl on his own.  
He saw him slip into his tent – he knew Merle wasn't there...probably on some hunt. Hell, he could feel that he had left his brother all on his lonesome.  
Hunt for pussy, more like otherwise Daryl would be with him. Will chuckled dirtily at his wit. Probably with that blonde civil lawyer woman – she was pretty hot.  
If I was only 20 years younger, Merle, I'd bet with ya who can get her on her back first. Will chuckled sounding eerily like the man he was thinking of.  
Will strode over confidently to the Dixon's tent and unzipped the flap which Daryl had closed it up again. The boy sure liked his privacy, that hadn't changed.

...  
'What ya... ya doin' here?' was Daryl's spluttered this hostile greeting to him from where he'd been lying on his airbed and dozing a little although usually he wasn't one for sleeping during the day. Early to rise and early to bed – that was the Dixon family's motto.   
'Jus' came to see one of my favourite boys.'  
'Well, I don't want to see ya! Thought I told ya to stay away from us!' Instead of being happy to see him like Will had imagined their reunion after all these years since Merle came back from wherever he was come and get his precious baby brother. Since they left, they'd cut their father out of their life completely (no doubt Merle's doing, Will thought to himself bitterly) and he had no idea where they were. Strange how fate was – the whole world had gone to shit but he'd managed to find them again.  
Yet something had told him that they were still alive...they were Dixons after all. He would know if they died ...did the same go for them about him? He thought it did.  
He turned back to him and he could swear that if he wasn't blocking Daryl's exit, he would have left already. The boy was backing off as far away from him as he could go, not easy in the small tent and moving his legs nervously.  
'Can't a father visit his son?' Will's tone was gentle, even playful.  
'You can't. Ya think I was jokin' about killin' ya?' Daryl sneered at him and narrowed his eyes before he looked at the floor and sank to it.  
Will chuckled and spread his hands in mock surrender. 'Then why haven't ya done it yet, Daryl? Too soft, that it?'  
'Don't fuckin' push me. I still got time.' His voice was calm but the ominous threat in it was unmistakable and Will thought he might have misjudged him after all. Yet, he took no notice and sat down next to him on the tent floor. Daryl scooted over to the other side as far away as he could from him in the confined space as if he was the devil. Despite himself, the father's feelings were hurt.  
'Now, I know I wasn't always the perfect father, drank too much sometimes and lost it...'  
'Ya don't say?' Daryl's reply was bitter and full of sarcasm.  
'I'm sorry for that. For hittin' ya – I was one mean drunk, I know. Can't we forget it, put it behind us? The whole world's ended, son – what were the odds do ya think of us findin' each other again?'  
'Wish we hadn't!'  
'Ya don't really mean that, Daryl.' Unseen by him, the youngest Dixon's hand was slowly reaching for his knife under his pile of clothes while he kept his eye on his father. He drew it out and without his father seeing, held in behind his back, in one hand, drawing a silent sigh of relief. Just in case he comes near me, he thought to himself. At least the sick bastard was staying where he was, knew better than to push his luck because then Daryl vowed to himself he would kill him – father or no father. For Merle.  
It was bad enough that he was in the place where he slept with his brother.  
They spent a few minutes eyeballing each other, one mocking and the other breathing hard and fast in rage and panic.   
Ya see, I don't touch the Devil's brew no more. Ain't touched one drop since ya left home with ya brother. 'Ceptin' last night of course, 'cos we were kinda celebratin'.'  
Daryl scoffed at that.  
'Could ya blame me? Ya beat the shit out of me!'  
Will winced at the memory. 'I know and ya big brother damn near killed me for it. Not that I blame him.' He hastily added.  
'I don't give a shit what ya did to me. What I want to know – what did ya do to Merle?'  
'Yeah, I admit I was pretty rough on him too.' Will sidestepped the question and what Daryl was implying. Just like he knew he wouldn't, he didn't pursue it. His eyes flickered towards the tent flap behind Will, obviously worrying about his brother coming back and seeing them together.  
'I think ya should get out now before Merle comes back and sees ya here. Nobody wants ya here, Dad. Ya should leave.' Daryl spoke coldly but Will didn't miss how his chest hitched as he made his point clear by turning his back on his father who opened his mouth about to say something but thought better of it. He was just about to do what he was told when they heard Merle shouting, 'Hey, baby brother, ya never guess what I saw...'  
He burst in and took a step back when he saw their father.   
'Whoa..What?' He shoved their father towards the door. 'Get away from him!'  
'We weren't doin' nothin', jus' talkin'! Daryl, tell him!'  
'I ain't tellin' him nothin'! Dad, ya should leave!'  
Meanwhile, a silence had fallen about the camp as if people were listening to the latest Dixon drama unfold and they automatically dropped their voices to whispers.  
But their father just smirked in the same way Merle did and drew himself closer to them!  
'Leave us alone, Dad!' Daryl spat the last word out with bitter contempt. 'Ya think I can ever forgive ya for what ya did to him?' He jerked is thumb back at his brother who watched all this with wide eyes. 'Ya sick is what ya are.'  
'What sick likes have ya been tellin' him, Merle?'  
Merle sighed. He hadn't wanted Daryl to know. 'Ya know what ya did!' He snarled back at the man he'd hoped he would never have to see again. The man he hated with all his heart.  
Will Dixon laughed. 'Then spit it out, boy! What am I supposed to have done? I mean after ya left me for dead and took off with your brother? Disappeared for years.  
Merle's eyes narrowed. 'Come here, Darlena.'  
Daryl obeyed and Merle wrapped his arms around him. Looking confused, he leaned the back of his head against his brother's chest while staring at their newly resurrected father.   
Will ignored all of this display and addressed Merle over his other son's head.  
'Don't be shy, son. What did I do that was so terrible?'  
Merle went bright red and turned away. Meanwhile his grip on his brother got tighter.  
'You ...you...said if I didn't let ya, you'd do it to him! Wish I'd killed ya.' He hissed, his voice coming out in a harsh whisper. Probably worried that if the wind was blowing in the right direction, the camp would hear.   
'Ya believe him, Daryl? I know I lost it sometimes when I drank too much but you don't know how much I regret that. Takin' that belt to ya both ...but I swear that's all I did! This is sick!'  
'Merle...' Daryl was uncertain.  
'Ya fucked me starting from when I was 11 for four years until I got the balls to fight back and leave. Did ya think I was gonna leave him with ya? When ya threatened to do it to him unless I let ya?' Merle's whisper was furious.   
'Then why did you leave him then? If ya are accusing me of doin' that...how could ya trust me with him?' They were whispering instinctively by now.  
Merle spluttered in rage but choked on his words. Because he had no answer for that...other than he'd only been thinking of himself – he just had to get out! And then he got sent to juve for the petty crimes he committed to survive on the streets and in a way, it had been a relief. He knew he could hack it, was tough enough to beat anyone down who challenged him.  
Daryl went red and looked down at the tent floor. Wishing it would swallow him whole. He didn't want to be here and have to listen but he needed to know. He wished Merle had never told him and that his father had never found them.  
'I knew ya wouldn't. Not to him.' Merle retorted the only way he could think of while Will chuckled.  
'Daryl, look at me. It's not true, I swear.'  
'Bye Dad.' Daryl turned his back deliberately on him and turned around to bury his face in his brother's chest like he couldn't face him any more. 'I believe him and ya better leave before I tell Rick about ya. How ya look at Carl.' He mumbled without looking at him.  
Will involuntarily gasped because he hadn't realised that someone had noticed. Meanwhile, Merle grinned a mean, triumphant smile at their father and kissed the top of Daryl's head in gratitude.  
'Yeah, get lost Dad. Don't think ya want others to know what ya are.'  
Will grunted and without another word, left their tent. Maybe they had won the battle but they hadn't won the war...he knew his health was failing and that he wouldn't survive on his own any   
longer. Besides that, he'd forgotten what it was like to have company, people chatting around him.  
Of course, he hadn't bothered telling his sons any of that.  
He was going to do everything to prevent them from spoiling things for him although he sensed that his place in the camp was by no means secure. Had others seen Daryl's scars? Did they care or just think he was worthless piece of redneck trash like his brother?  
Will shook his head because he sensed that people cared about Daryl even if they couldn't see stand his brother. The boy had actually made friends and gained some respect.


	21. Chapter 21

I was 13 years old again and my flailing arms had no real strength in them. Not like when until I became a man. Even then I was starting to act like a Dixon like he kept battering into us. Literally. He should have been pleased.

Except when he did that. But I never cried except for the first time. It was the shock and pain.

Whenever he did that shit – I would resist and plead with him to stop.

He would but only to shake me. 'Ya want me to do it to ya brother? 'Cos I will if ya make me stop now.'

'No! Don't do it to him!' I screamed in my reedy, sometimes-broken-but-not-always voice and he smiled smugly. Because him threatening Daryl with this always got me. After all, I was used to this, I could take it. But him? Not that he was weak by any means but if he had to endure what I did, it would ruin him for good and I couldn't bear the thought of that. Besides, he was a lot younger than me. Dad could really hurt him if he pushed it all the way in like he did me...probably break him in half! No matter how much lube he used or how slow he went because to give him his due, he usually tried to be gentle with me unless I had really pissed him off.

Better not to argue to give the sick fuck what he wanted.

'Good boy.' He praised and ruffled my hair immediately before he started thrusting inside me again. 'Ya so good to me.' He moaned appreciatively and kissed neck, making me squirm in disgust – not least at what he was saying as what he was doing.

He snarled and brutally yanked my hair back at my almost instinctive reaction while I tried to hold back any noise of protest. That always got him mad.

I'd forgotten to play along.

I don't know how he didn't put me off sex forever – I guess I had too much of a libido and my own sick mind that I couldn't blame it all on him. Maybe it was the Dixon curse?

'Ya Mama won't let me touch her...and a man has his needs, ya'll understand that when ya grown.'

I cringed inside at this little too much bit of information that was his habit to give me...especially when he fucked me – his own son and I couldn't help answering back.

'Yeah...maybe but I'll never be as sick as ya! Never force myself on anyone!'

Instead of getting angry at that, he chuckled. 'Oh, yeah?' He stroked my hair making me cringe back even more under his heavy hand.' Ya a Dixon, ain't ya? And ya jus' like ya Daddy. A pervert.'

'No, I ain't! Ain't nothin' like ya!'

But it was like he didn't even hear as he really got into things. His moans and thrusts coming harder, finally drawing little cries of pain from me despite my determination not to show much it hurt.

How those words came back to haunt me later. Not that cared much at the time. Only after I found Daryl again. Seeing him again and his reaction to the things I'd done made me remember myself.

Bored and needing something to distract me from reality, I started to count the number of thrusts as he pounded into me. I was silent, having got myself back under control again.

'No, Dad, NO!' I found myself yelling though as soon as I felt that he was not far from the finishing line.

'M...Merle?' Daryl whispered in his tentative way as he squirmed out of my arms and turned around to cup my face gently with his hands. 'What is it?'

'No...no, don't touch me!' I immediately jerked away. It was still stark and I was confused by the aftermath of the nightmare that was really a memory – I'd been having a lot of them since the old man came back. I wondered if Daryl had really meant it about killing him for me, I was almost ready to let him. Because I couldn't and him being here with us was bad on so many levels. Not least that he already had his beady eye on Carl – according to my brother and I was surprised that no-one else had noticed him moving on him or was creeped out by the old fuck. Still, I knew they didn't like him much -even the ones who didn't know about my brother's scars – at least I hoped that not everyone knew.

Still, neither of us told Rick or had tried to really to make him leave.

Or put the sick old dog down.

….

Now our roles were reversed and it was my little brother making me feel better when that was my job.

Of course, he weren't doing it in the way I wanted to ...sick fuck that I was. Maybe Dad was right all along about me?

'Ya dreamin' about him again?' He pulled me to his chest and ran his fingers through my hair – our positions reserved from the last few weeks when he'd been broken from Woodbury and the group had done nothing to help him, as far as I could see. I was still furious with them for that – one of my reasons for wanting to get us away.

'Well, he's fuckin' here, ain't he?'

Without being able to see him, I sensed him smile coldly in the dark and for some reason it chilled me. My sweet baby brother was not the same since his stay at Woodbury and while I had only half believed that he was capable of murdering our dear old dad, then I believed that he could actually do it. The thing with Jones had been a big surprise – he'd wanted revenge – literally the eye for an eye kind but in the end he hadn't been able to stay and watch me mete it out let alone join in. I knew it had sickened him and a big part of me had been glad that he wasn't like me. I'd wanted to keep him untouched but I'd failed miserably at that but at least he hadn't sunk to my level. Had stopped my fun in fact because there was no need to feel guilty about doing Jones and I could really enjoy it. Let myself go infact in giving that asshole who had hurt my brother so badly what he deserved.

'I meant what I said about killin' the old bastard – he ain't safe around the kids. Especially boys.' His lower trembled when he said that last word, probably remembering me.

'Though he probably wouldn't touch Sophia...ya know how old school he is about anyone without a dick.' I reluctantly argued.

'I know.' He replied when he felt me shiver, he pulled me tighter against him and I kept thinking of the one way he could make me forget all about Dad. But he had said that was never going to happen ever again so that was that.

'Daryl...he's still our Dad.' I tried to reason with him. For all that, he was still our one surviving family member as far as we knew.

That made him sit right up and shove me off him angrily. 'No he ain't. He stopped bein' our Dad when he ...he did that sick shit to ya. Did Momma know?'

'And what about what he did to you?' I didn't want to answer that particular question.

'Weren't nothin'. ' He shrugged like the scars on his back didn't matter. 'Not even what happened to me with the governor's men at Woodbury weren't nothin'...not compared with what he did. 'Cos he was our father and ya were jus' a kid.'

'Yeah...but what about what I did there? And what I did to those animals who fucked ya?' By that I only meant Jones and I personally didn't feel an ounce of regret about what I'd done to him but I wanted to see how he felt about it. And me afterwards.

He winced at that word. Me and my big Dixon mouth.

'They deserved it...ya know that sick fuck Jones always said to me before he shoved it in without lube?'

I shook my head because I didn't know. Not sure I wanted to but he clearly wanted to tell me. The first time he was able to talk about what was done to him as a prisoner without shaking. I could see that he was calm and talking about things in a detached voice because while we were talking, it had been getting lighter. Hopefully, the rest of the camp was still fast asleep – no chance of them hearing but they would be stirring soon.

'No, tell me little brother.' I shifted so that I could put my arms around him and pull him back against me.

'This is gonna hurt me more than you.' Now that tell-tale quiver was back in his voice when it had been absent from it for months. 'Can ya believe that shit?'

'Sick fuck...wish ya'd let me fuck him to death like I wanted to...like he threatened ya with...Bastard was blowin' me hard and good 'til ya stopped us.' Seeing him like he was after made my anger rise in my chest again. A hot lump of fiery burning coal – it felt like until it blocked my throat, making it hard to swallow all of a sudden.

Incredibly, he chuckled at that but still I could tell that tears weren't far off. First time he'd cried about what those sick fucks did to him in a long while and I really didn't want him to.

'Sh...Baby, it's OK.' I rubbed circles on his back while he nodded against me. 'Fucker's dead, he can't hurt ya no more.'

'I know.' He croaked out, not even reacting to what I just called him. I called him that a lot since our relationship had gone up another level. Then again, he could just take it to mean short for 'baby brother'.

'Sh...' I repeated.

His trembling slowly started to fade away as I started to rock us back and forth just like Momma used to. It worked because he did manage not to cry. So I dared to lay a couple of quick kisses on his throat under the guise of making him 'feel all better.' He gasped and I caught sight of a cute blush spread below his jawline but otherwise he didn't say anything.

I didn't try to push things further. Even I wasn't such a shit as to take advantage of him when he was upset and needing comfort. But his response gave me hope...maybe it wasn't all over between us like he said. If I could get him to...well never mind.

Eventually he dozed off even though it was dawn now and there were sounds of some of early risers in the the camp stirring. As if to torment me even more, the little bastard slung a leg across my hips.

'Jesus fucked!' I hissed in frustration. 'Don't do this to me.' I groaned. 'Jus' lie still otherwise...otherwise ya gonna make me...' My voice trailed off as I stifled a grown.

But he just kept on shifting awhile in his sleep up to the point I was going to wake him up just to make him stop before he pushed me past the point of no return. Even though part of me desperately wanted him to. But then, without warning, he finally settled down.

I must have dozed off too because we woke up to the sound of Rick bawling in that hatefully cheery voice of his outside our tent, 'It's 9 o'clock...time to get up! We all got jobs to do!' Before he moved on to the next tent of sleepyheads.

'Fuckin' asshole.' I bitched although to be fair, Dixons usually rose with the sun but not today. 'Who's he to tell us when to get up., huh?' The cop always got right up my nose with his orders barked at everybody, including my brother. Who he'd tied to the bed when he didn't know how to deal with him any more - so others had told me. Left him crying alone all night if it hadn't been for his friend, that chink kid.

Daryl got up and frowned to see how he'd been lying on top of me but didn't comment.

I didn't either. Why poke the elephant in the corner of the tent?

…

Will Dixon crept away silently from his sons' tent and wiped his eyes furiously of the shameful pussy tears. He was a Dixon and knew how to hide from another – it was the hunter in all of them – that he had trained in both his boys. When money had been tight – he didn't delve into the reasons mainly involving his drugs and drinking – they'd hunted the forest to survive. Eaten anything they could catch...deer, wild hog, porcupine, racoon – even squirrel when they were desperate. He doubted either of them had heard him, so intent on each other and what they were saying...opening old wounds and making them bleed, it sounded like.

Now he knew what had happened to his youngest, it had made him cry the first time since he couldn't remember himself. Not since he was very young, anyway until his own father had taught him how to be a Dixon. Yet his mouth had twisted in a kind of reluctant prideful smile when heard how his boys had dealt with the rapists. Given them some of their own medicine, so it had sounded like. And that's why Merle was being like that with him – that was the only reason. The boy had needed it too.

'Daryl!' He whispered in genuine grief. Did they really threaten to rape ya to death, poor boy?'... 'This is gonna hurt me more than you?' He had repeated after them silently mouthing the words in disbelief, not risking that they would hear him with their keen Dixon ears. Without lube - it was so sick ...it was unreal, almost like a kiddie pantomime!

Typically, he didn't dwell on what they'd said about him...how he was a danger to young boys or Daryl threatening again to kill him again. More bark than bite in that boy, not that he wasn't tough. Will Dixon didn't think about anything he didn't want to or believe it, for that matter. Besides, the father couldn't actually believe that either of them had the guts to kill him – he knew that some part of them deep inside them still loved him and he was sure that he could eventually convince Daryl that Merle was lying or had imagined it. The shock of hearing what had happened to him had forced it all from his mind.

It was clear now why he had found them...been reunited with them again. He was not a superstitious or religious man by any means but he did feel there was some outside force directing things. Like it had thrown them back together for a purpose.

When he'd heard Merle taking care of his brother like that, he'd left, knowing that he knew what best to do. His mind at ease once again because nothing was going on between them. Not like he'd feared although he'd seen the way Merle had looked at his little brother when they'd been growing up. Nothing had changed either.

He couldn't remember when exactly it had started and typically, he didn't ask himself if it had been after he and Merle started playing their special father and son games.

Will Dixon strode back to his own tent to rest. He wasn't tired – he rarely slept more than four hours a night these days.

He smiled gently because he had plans...involving his sons and the Grimes boy.

Especially him.


	22. Chapter 22

TTWH 22

Will Dixon sidled over to the Grimes boy.   
'What ya doin', son?'  
Carl looked up guilessly at him. Of course he did, he came from a good family, decent folks. This is going to be easy. The old man thought.   
'Ya want me to show ya how to go trackin' like my boys?'  
Carl looked excited but then looked down. 'Thanks, sir. But I don't think...' How polite he was.  
Right on cue, his Dad called him over. Unnoticed by either of them, he'd been watching and frowning. Something about the elder Dixon gave him the creeps, especially how he always seemed to make a beeline straight for his son. He knew what he'd done to Daryl and Merle too probably – he'd seen the scars all over his younger son's torso.  
'Carl! Come over here!' His voice was uncharacteristically sharp and Daryl withdrew back into the tent he shared with his brother. He had been going to intervene – they still hadn't told Rick how dangerous their father was – what he had done. He was right – they were ashamed.  
Daryl crawled back into the tent and lay down beside his brother. Merle automatically slung an arm around him and drew him to him and hesighed with content as he snuggled into his older brother's side.  
'So, what's the ole bastard upto now?' Merle drawled.  
'Still sniffin' round Carl...Was gonna go and belt him one myself until Rick called him away.'  
Merle laughed at that, Daryl could feel his guffaws rolling in his chest.  
Daryl scowled and thumped his chest with one fist. 'Seriously, what we gonna do about him?'  
Merle plunged one hand casually into his mop and yanked it playfully and forced his brother to look up at him.  
'Ow! Asshole!' Daryl punched him side. That got them wrestling – exactly as Merle had planned. He soon had him pinned under him – the position they both liked best although Daryl would never admit it. Merle growled and pulled up his brother's vest, biting and licking his way up to his nipples and smiled smugly when Daryl shuddered and let out a breathy moan, arching against him.   
He thought he was in there and was just about to undress him when Daryl put a hand on his wrist.  
'No.' He panted.  
'No? Come on, ya don't mean that, baby brother. Jus' let me...' Merle coaxed and started to kiss his way down his stomach, meanwhile he shrugged off his own pants.  
Daryl let his head roll and his breath hitched and Merle could tell that he was near giving in to him. That's when they heard a chuckle and looked up to see their father there under the flap of the tent.  
'Fuck!' Daryl hissed and scrambled to do up his flies and instinctively hid behind his brother.   
Merle, on the other hand stayed where he was, legs splayed out defiantly. Luckily he still had his underwear on but he was displaying his bulging package to all and sundry.  
'Well, well. Ya finally went and did it, Merle. Well done. Did he go willin' or did ya have to force him? Probably had to trick him or drug him the first time, huh, son?'  
'Ain't like ya, sick fuck! We're gonna tell Rick and the others what ya are and they'll kick ya out!' Merle hit back.  
'No, ya won't.' Will retorted, his voice soft and somehow his crooning was worse than his vicious tongue or filthy taunts that they'd been used to growing up. 'Ya tell and I'll tell. How ya fuck ya own sweet baby brother. I don't think they'll be on ya side – do ya, Merle?'  
'We don't care. We got nothin' to be ashamed of.' Merle folded his arms over his chest and glared at their father.  
Incredibly, Daryl started to whimper with shame and humiliation. Merle's cocky expression crumpled as he reached round him to stroke his brother's arm soothingly without looking at him, not risking taking his eyes off their father. Telling him without words that this didn't matter, that no-one would know..  
Will watched all this curiously. 'What's wrong with him? I never brought up no pussies.' His eyes narrowed like he just remembered something and was putting it all together in his head.  
'Shut ya mouth.' Merle snapped while he shushed his brother. He knew it was true – before Woodbury, Daryl wouldn't have shown weakness like this and if he had needed proof that the boy was still fragile, this was it. But it was all their father's fault, coming back like this when they'd hoped he was dead. Opening old wounds and hurts, making his brother go backwards and undoing all of Merle's good work over the last few months.  
Will smirked like his elder son often did and intruded further inside their tent. Both his sons scrambled away from him and he laughed. Because they were fully grown men – had been for years yet they were still scared of him! It was hilarious, really.  
He crouched down on his knees to try to make eye-contact with his youngest even though his other son was blocking his way.  
'What is it, son? I know what happened to ya.' Their father's tone was gentle and full of sorrow.  
'No, Dad! Ya don't know shit!' Daryl fired back.  
'I know...ya poor boy. At Wood...'  
Merle felt Daryl start to tremble beside him.  
'Don't ya say that to him!' Merle was suddenly on him and he was pinned to the canvas floor, gasping for air as he was choked. He didn't have the strength he used to have and his sons were in their prime. It was more their idea of him and their memories that had allowed him to dominate them with his presence.  
Daryl was looking at him from over his brother's shoulder with cold curiosity and it chilled the father's heart. It wasn't like how he remembered his sweet boy at all.  
'Daryl?' Will croaked, stretching his arm out towards him entreatingly. They assumed that he was begging them to stop it and Daryl only sneered down at him.  
'Do it!' He told his brother and even Merle looked shocked.   
'He'll hurt us....hurt Carl.' Daryl insisted and then turned away.   
But Merle suddenly stopped, and Will's vision gradually came back from where it had been swimming before his eyes and he could breathe again.  
'Why did ya stop?' Will gasped and clutched his chest while Daryl whipped his head back to watch them again with dazed detachment.   
Merle smirked knowingly. ''Cos I know ya dyin', Dad. Got the big 'C'. Which one – I guess it ain't lung cancer otherwise you'd be coughin' ya guts out and ya still look OK – apart from ya lost a little weight. But then we all have, I guess.'  
Now Daryl reacted and turned to gape at his father in shock. 'N...No...' He cried out despite himself and how much he wanted him dead a few minutes ago.  
'Wha-? How did ya...?' Will didn't even noticed his mouth was opening and closing, trying to speak to his other son.  
''Ya yellow skin and eyes. And ya shakes when ya had that drink the other night. Cos ya wanted me to kill ya jus' now before the pain gets too bad, don't ya? But I ain't gonna do that.'  
'Merle...' Daryl hissed behind him but father and son ignored him as they eye-balled each other.  
'Not 'cos I ain't capable. 'Cos I'm gonna let ya suffer and enjoy watchin' ya die slow and painful.' He finished coldly. 'Like ya deserve. That or I'll tell Rick ya been eyein' his son and want some special quality time alone with him.'  
Will actually laughed until he frowned as if in sudden pain and he clutched his left side. 'No...I think ya'll keep ya mouth shut. That or finally kill me. 'Cos ya would have done it by now. Too ashamed, the both of ya.'  
'Ya sure we won't tell Rick what ya did?' He snarled. 'Ya ain't even denyin' it no more!' Daryl burst in furiously.   
'Then I'll tell the others about you two. They'll chuck ya out for sure – drop ya like two hot cakes - the bunch of uppity hypocrites – the lot of them, lookin' down their noses at us.'  
They stared at him because they knew what he said was true. But they didn't consider who the group would believe – them or him. 

'Unless ya let a dyin' man have his fun in the short time I got left.' Grinning at their sickened expressions, he nodded. 'Yeah- ya know what I'm talkin' about. The boy.'  
Daryl growled and clenched his fists, intending to lunge at him but he was dragged back by Merle. 'Ya don't touch Carl, ya hear!' He hissed.  
Their tormentor chuckled fondly. 'It's kinda cute how protective he is of the little brat, ain't it, Merle? No wonder ya wanna fuck him.' He laughed crudely.   
Merle said nothing, only looked at him unseeingly like he'd seen a ghost and it scared Daryl to see all the fight leave his big brother.  
'Now, ya not to cause waves and get me run out of town, ya hear? Here, I get free food and shelter, thanks to ya boys. Or I'll tell them about ya but I'll put my own spin on it and ya won't like that, believe me.'   
Merle shrugged but that didn't matter. Will knew that Daryl had made a life for himself here, formed relationships with some of the people and that he wouldn't let them leave,  
Because despite appearances, whatever Daryl says, goes.


	23. Chapter 23

TTWH 23

I'm not sure where it's going. It started off well, but... Anyway. I'm trying to do something a little different. And it's sick so warnings apply. Of course it is, Daddy Dixon's still alive and come back for his boys.

Daryl

I paced back and forth outside our tent, looking for our father. I cursed him for finding us, for still being alive, for surviving the apocalypse. We assumed he was dead and he was hurting my brother just by being back here and he was a threat to Carl. But only we could see it! I mean, I knew Rick was exactly thrilled to have him here and tried to keep his boy away from him but still. If he knew...  
But I didn't want to tell him anything. It was our shame – me and Merle's. Bad enough he knew about the scars on my back and had seen us nearly fuck each other. Hadn't seemed so surprised, more triumphant than anything that now he had a hold over us and we'd proved him right. And why were we feeding and watering him, giving his old bones shelter by the fire?  
I knew he had liver cancer – could tell by just looking at him. His addiction had finally killed him. But I didn't know how far it had spread and without medical equipment, had not way of knowing.  
He couldn't die quick enough for me. If he told Rick about us, then so be it. Put it down to some weird psychological side -effect from what happened to me when I was the Governor's prisoner.  
But I knew that it ran deeper than that – my big brother had always wanted me but I had never given into him until I'd run into those bad men at Woodbury.  
When they'd found me, I'd been scarcely human – more like a caged animal. I'd needed the comfort. Badly. Feel hands on me that cared, stroking my hair and my skin gently. He held me day and night whenever he had a free minute for weeks afterwards but I only remembered all that dimly. He took literally eye-for-an eye revenge for me when I couldn't. But seeing what he did to those men who attacked me scared me more than I liked to admit. I also scared myself for allowing him to avenge himself on Jones like that...It had sickened me yet thrilled me at the same time. Leading to what happened afterwards. Was I really my Daddy's son and brother's brother, after all?  
Yet I owed him.  
What the hell were we going to do about Dad? He could ruin everything for us. The new life we'd built for ourselves where we had a purpose and respect from others for the first time in our lives.  
…  
I decided to take the bull by the horns and go and speak to Rick. He looked pleased to see me.  
'How's things goin'? How's ya Dad?'  
'That's what I came to talk to ya about. Ya got to get rid of him, I'm tellin' ya.'  
'Oh?' Shock flooded his face at my harsh words.. 'He's an old man. Do ya really expect us to jus' throw him out in the cold to be eaten and turned into one of them?' I thought ya were a decent man, had more compassion than that.'  
'Listen.' I moved nearer to him to eye-ball him. 'He ain't no harmless old man. Ya seen the scars on my back, right? He did them and on Merle too. I'm tellin' ya - don't let him near Carl.'  
'What are ya sayin'? Ya think he'll...No way. He wouldn't hurt my boy.'  
'Ya sure? 'Cos I notice everytime he gets near Carl, ya call him away.'  
He had nothing to say to that. So he tried a different tack.  
'He's still ya Dad. He gave ya life, gotta owe him one for that. Now he's old and his health ain't so good, ya jus' gonna abandon him? Where does it end if we start doin' that? I didn't know if everyone knew he had cancer but the fact that he was seriously sick was clear to anyone who looked at his yellowing skin and shambling old man walk. Saw the twinges of pain that crossed his features , getting more frequent now.  
'Yeah, all that's true. He is old and sick and also a drain on our resources which we can't afford. What does he do other than eat, sleep and shit? He can't contribute nothin'!'  
'Jesus, Daryl. Maybe I can understand why ya hate him but I thought ya were bigger than that. Maybe he survived and came here for a reason – for ya and Merle to finally make up and exorcise ya demons with him in the short time he's got left. You'll both feel better afterwards, believe me. Ya ever think of it like that?'  
'Look.' I grabbed his arm. But I couldn't tell him what he did to Merle. Merle would never forgive me if I betrayed his secret shame, after all, his was so much bigger than mine. What did I have but just a few scars? 'He...he...'  
'What?' Rick tilted his head.  
I sighed and took my hand off him. 'All I'm sayin' there ain't nothin' so dangerous as an old sick wolf with a bad paw. If ya let him stay, it's gonna end badly, for all of us. At least keep Carl away from him.'  
'Will do, if ya that worried.' Then he dismissed me.

…  
'Hey kid.' I ruffled his hair and he looked up at me. 'I wanna talk to ya about somethin', OK?'  
Carl looked up at me from where he was washing the dishes at the pump. 'What?'  
'I want ya to stay away from my Dad. He's...dangerous.' I tapped the side of my head, indicating that my old man was crazy. Not far off from the truth.  
'But he seems real nice for such an old guy. Tells real interesting stories too.'  
'Carl...' I crouched down in front of him and whispered. 'Ya know he used to beat the crap out of me and my brother when we were ya age?'  
'Yeah...everyone knows ya got scars.'  
I couldn't help wincing at that. So everybody knew. Nobody had dared ask me about them though.  
'He used his belt on me and believe me, he ain't changed one bit.' I flushed red with embarrassment. If he wasn't in real danger, I would never have confided so much in him. But it turned out he knew anyway and still fell for the old bastard's charm. I just couldn't believe that Rick would put him in danger.  
'I'm sorry.' The boy said sincerely. 'But maybe he feels bad about it now.'  
'He doesn't, believe me. All he does is hurt people. Stay away from him if ya know what's good for ya.'  
If only he had taken my advice, he could have saved himself a whole lot of hurt.

…  
After trying to warn Carl, I turned back to my tent. 'Merle? Ya in there?'  
No answer. I was thinking how I needed some relaxation and to let off steam with my brother after I failed to get through to Rick and his son. Why did everyone fall for Dad's tricks? Sure, I had to admit that he could be charismatic when he wanted to be.  
I unzipped the flap and crawled in. Nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw my father in Merle's sleeping bag.  
'What the fuck ya doin' in here on my brother's bed? Where's Merle?'  
'He's gone huntin' without ya. Saw him go.'  
'Get out!' I snarled.  
'Not until we have ourselves a talk. Clear the air, how does that sound?'  
'I don't got nothin' to say to ya! I told ya to get out, NOW!'  
He leaned back against the pillow and grinned. I saw the half empty bottle of moonshine that threatened to fall over and spill by his side. So, I thought, the bastard is trying to hurry along things. Good!  
'Do up the zip, son. Ain't goin' until I've spoken to ya. What happened to ya at that place?' He whispered and reached down to take another swig. 'Want some?'  
I shook my head.  
'What bad things did they do to ya there?'  
I drew in a sharp breath and felt myself begin to tremble as the memories began to crowd round me. 'Damn ya for bringin' it up. Ain't gonna tell ya jus' so ya can jerk off to it.'  
He chuckled filthily at that.  
'They hurt ya, huh, son? Was Merle there with 'em? Did he join in?' He licked his lips and I could tell this image excited him. 'That why ya two are...?' He made a crude fucking gesture with his hands.  
I drew back and hissed. 'Fuck no!' But my heart was galloping, thudding in my chest.  
'Yeah, they did. Come on, tell Daddy.' His tone was sorrowful but his eyes were dancing with evil glee. He was enjoying my humiliation and was mocking me for what happened to me.  
'Fuck you.' Here he was, creeping me out, talking to me like that in that way he hadn't since I was about five years old. I turned around to get out without another word, find my brother so we could drag his sorry ass out of our tent and then disinfect our sleeping-bags. We'd never feel clean again otherwise. But then he grabbed my leg!  
I instinctively kicked out but he dragged me to him. I fought him, wondering how the hell he could still be so strong when he was old and dying and I was young and in my prime? It was like we were going back in time again.  
'Fuck!' I screamed. 'Get off me!' But no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to escape him.  
'Sh...baby. It's OK.'  
'Merle!' I screamed for my brother.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looked like Daryl had got over (more or less) what happened to him at Woodbury with his brother's help. But then their father turns up alive and that spells more trouble ahead for the Dixon brothers. Even worse, Carl is in danger too but everybody, including Rick seems oblivious.
> 
> Nobody is listening to poor Daryl.

i

Daryl

'Sh,... baby.' He crooned at me and I swear it was the creepiest shit I had ever heard him say to me.

I fought like the devil but he was heavy as fuck …as heavy as I remembered. Cancer certainly wasn't devouring him from the inside like it was supposed to and he flipped me over so that he was straddling me. He was heavy on my chest so that I found it hard to breathe.

I kicked at him and lashed out but it did no good. I screamed for my brother, for anyone to come and help me but nobody did. Just like in Woodbury.

The bastard must have counted on the fact that the tent I shared with him was far away enough from everyone else's and the wind was blowing in the wrong direction that day. He was sly enough to think things through in that much detail before hand.

He grabbed me by the mouth and shook me roughly. 'Shut up, if ya know what's good for ya.'

Why was it that dying seemed to give him supernatural strength or had he always been stronger tha us no matter how old we got? Bigger, more powerful?

'Get off me!' I hissed. 'Merle!'

He chuckled then. 'Ya always used to call for him to come and save ya. Still doin' it now.'

'Fuck you! Ya ain't gonna last long here when I tell them what ya are. What ya did. Rick'll lynch ya when I tell him ya sniffin' around his boy.'

'Then why ain't ya yet?'

I had no answer for that and I stopped struggling. For whatever reason, he could still overpower me but I wasn't going to waste time dwelling on the hows or the whys.

He reached over me and smirked when I jerked back automatically, shakily picked up the bottle with one hand and took a swig.

'Want some?'

'I said 'No' before. What makes ya think I've changed my mind?' I snapped.

'Well, have some anyway. It'll relax ya.' He tried to force the bottle to my mouth but I turned away and spat it out. It tasted nasty – the kind of stuff that would make you go blind. Like the foul-tasting shit we used to brew ourselves.

He snarled at that and cuffed me. 'What a fuckin' waste!'

'I don't want to relax. I jus' want ya to let me the fuck go and leave us all the hell alone. Merle's gonna be back anytime soon...' I tried reminding him.

'Ain't gonna happen. 'Not until I get what I want from ya.'

That put me in a panic again. I didn't even want to think about what my evil, twisted father would want from me. It wouldn't be anything good, I was sure.

'Merle!' I fought to get free and tried to buck him off but he stuck to me like a champion rodeo-rider.

I let myself go limp, apparently defeated. But I had a plan.

'Good boy.' He chuckled then and brushed the limp strands off my forehead. 'I didn't want it to be like this. Wanted to talk to ya but neither ya nor a ya brother would let me near.'

'Could ya blame us?'

He put the bottle to my lips and tipped it up, supporting my head from underneath. 'Drink!' He ordered.

It had always been better to give in to him and do what he said. It was over quicker that way.

But I shook my head stubbornly but then he forced the neck of the bottle more insistently between my lips and I drank. It burned my throat.

Then, without warning after letting me have a couple of swigs, he tore the bottle away and I saw a flash of white in his hand before he crammed whatever it was into my mouth.

I choked and tried to spit the pills out. For all I knew, it could be poison. Probably was.

I was bewildered but couldn't speak. My mouth was full and I was trying not to swallow.

He didn't answer. 'If ya don't swallow 'em or spit 'em out, I'll take the boy into the woods when no-one's looking and ya precious Rick'll never see him again. None of ya will...and ya know how he'll die. It'll be bad.' His threat chilled me to the bone and a cold hand clutched my heart in my chest. Seemed to stop it beating for a second or two before it finally released it again.

Made me think that maybe my brother hadn't been his only victim and how luck I was he never touched me. Not like that.

'And I know ya don't want to be responsible for what I'll do to him.' The sly bastard drove his point home and I knew then I had to do what he said as all the fight left me.

I quietened down then even as I cursed myself for my easy submission and weakness. Wondering what the hell was wrong with me but I was full of terror for the boy.

'No, no, please don't hurt Carl. I'll do anythin' ya want. Jus' leave him out of it.'

He shook my jaw gently. 'Jus' swallow 'em then. They won't hurt ya, son. Promise.'

I reluctantly did as he said.

'Wha...what were they? What did ya give me, sick fuck?' I spluttered.

He laughed hollowly again without answering. Just looked down at me, still straddling my chest. Stroked the side of my face and my hair gently. Making me shiver in revulsion but he didn't seem to notice.

Or care.

After a while of him touching me like that, I started to relax. The edges of reality grew a little fuzzy.

I no longer cared about what was happening and didn't even try to get away. Seemed like the pills he force-fed me were real potent shit.

He got off me. 'Come here.'

I shook my head but he hitched me up to his chest and fed me again from the liqueur bottle. I spluttered.

'Hey, hey, take it easy.'

'Good boy.' He stroked my hair again and it felt good when it shouldn't have. 'Ya know how long I've been waitin' to do this again? Like when ya were real little, huh, son?'

'Yeah...' I murmered sleepily. 'Merle'll get back soon. Ya better not be here when he does.'

'Oh, son.' He cooed tenderly at me, 'I jus' want ya forgiveness, is all. Ya and Merle's both before I move on.'

'Yeah right. When ya go to hell, ya mean!' Clarity suddenly returned to me temporarily but then I lost it again and slumped back in his arms.

He said nothing except, 'Ya know what I gave ya jus' now? Truth pills - got some kind of sedative in 'em too. Makes ya calm as well as truthful.'

I stared at him like he was crazy. But it was true, I was feeling calm. Well – mostly.

'Do ya forgive me, Daryl? For whippin' ya and everythin' else I did to ya?' The whole time he didn't stop touching me. Like Merle did after I got back from Woodbury, when I was out of my mind most of the time but I knew it was him. It calmed my trembling at least and allowed me to sleep better.

'I can forgive ya for me but not for what ya did to my brother.' I answered frankly. The truth pills did their job well. 'But I can never forgive ya for Merle. Ya went too far with him, Dad.'

He kissed me on the temple then and I jerked away like his mouth was on fire. He chuckled. 'Ya were always the sweet one. Ya brother saw that and he loves ya so much he sacrificed himself to save ya. And I kept my promise, didn't I? Didn't touch ya?'

'Ya sick.' I snarled, feeling sick myself to my stomach but didn't have the strength to get up. He stank of booze and death. Meanwhile I looked around the tent, desperately looking for something I could use as a weapon against him.

But there was nothing in reach. Besides, my limbs felt so heavy, I could barely move. I didn't want him touching me but I was powerless to stop him. Like when they drugged me at Woodbury and I'd been tied up. Besides, I kept swinging from flashes of wanting to fight back and stone-heavy lethargy weighing me down.

'Don't matter though. 'Cos he's already got what he wanted from ya. How long it been goin' on? He hurt ya, huh?' He crooned and combed his fingers through my hair like he used to do when I was little. He'd been a pretty affectionate father when he wasn't beating the shit out of us. Then again, I didn't know 'how affectionate' he was being to my big brother.

'No! 'Course not! Not that it's any of ya damn business!' I snapped suddenly. I was fading in and out of reality. Between the past and the present.

'Is it...it cos' of those bad men? The ones who hurt ya in Woodbury, ya poor boy?'

I shuddered. 'I...I don't wanna talk about that. Please, Dad. Don't make me.' A childish whine crept into my voice and I hated it.

'Shh...It's OK. I ain't gonna make ya do nothin'.' He hugged me tighter. Then he started to whisper in my ear.

ii

Merle came back and a sense of dread made him start running as soon as he got back to camp. Daryl was in pain, his brother was in trouble. And where was their father?

'Daryl!' He yelled, drawing curious looks and some worried glances from people as he rushed across the camp. 'Daryl!'

He heard him quietly sobbing as soon as he got near their tent and their father whispering to him. But he didn't catch what he was saying to him.

'Daryl!' Their tent went quiet.

Merle tore open the zipper and fell back in shock at what he saw inside.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just changed this chapter slightly ...added a shock revelation I was saving for the next chapter but it explains why Daryl is in such a state and on second thoughts fits in better here...  
> What's Daddy Dixon done to Daryl? And why can't he fight him off even though he's dying? And what exactly were the pills he forced down his throat?  
> Poor Daryl. He doesn't deserve any of this and it seems whatever he's doing to him is making him go backwards to how he was when the others found him in that jail cell in Woodbury.  
> What's Merle going to do?

Merle gasped and put his hand over his mouth in shock when he saw them together and he wasn't someone who was easily shocked. His first impulse was to drag his sobbing brother away from their father and then beat the bastard down, dying or not. Will had his arms around Daryl – was touching him with his filthy hands...all over him. His face, his arm, even his hair and his brother clearly didn't want it.  
What the fuck ya doin' to him?' He snarled. Even now their father was tightening his grip around his brother who wasn't even trying to resist. But at least they were both fully-clothed. But what had he expected ? That their father would...could overpower his brother like that? That was just sick and unbelievable. Yet....  
Worst still, he was in Merle's sleeping-bag! He'd never be able to use it ever again!  
'Nothin'. He was jus' tellin' me about those animals and what they did to him at Woodbury, poor boy.'  
'And why the fuck would he do that? Tell ya of all people about that shit?'  
Daryl shook his head and sniffed and he could see that he was trying desperately to get himself back under control and stop crying. Merle noticed his black pupils spinning wide like saucers. It was clear to him that he'd been drugged.  
'Merle...' His brother stretched out one shaky hand to him and pleaded with his eyes. 'Get him off m...'  
The older Dixon brother didn't waste time thinking but aiming above Daryl's head and taking care not to hit him, he punched his father hard in the face. Will grunted and his hold of him slipped.  
Merle snatched his hapless brother who seemed to have trouble moving and pushed him to the side of the tent. When he'd got Daryl safely away from their father, he rounded on the sick man and started kicking him as hard as he could with his heavy hiking boots. In his chest, his stomach, almost ripping the walls of the tent down in the fury of his attack. He didn't stop even when he vaguely heard Daryl's quiet sounds of protest behind him.  
Their father just grunted at each assault but otherwise didn't react or show that it hurt. He was a Dixon after all and the oldest and the meanest of them.  
'What were ya sayin' to him to make him cry like that, ya sick fuck?' He paused.  
'Nothin.' Jus' talkin' is all. Tryin' to make him feel better actually.' Will breathed harshly and blood was trickling from a cut on his forehead and despite his anger, Merle felt a stab of shame for hitting an old man, a dying man at that. Whatever he'd done to them, he'd still given them life, such as it was. But then he looked back at his brother, who seemed like he was on the verge of passing out.  
'Don't believe that. Ya gave him somethin', didn't ya?'  
Will chuckled.  
'What did ya give him, fucker?' Merle grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and eye-balled him, getting right in his face although the stink of death and booze nauseated him and the old familiar revulsion hit him whenever he was in his father's vicinity. He was so intent on getting the answer out of him that neither of them paid attention to Daryl.  
'Jus' a couple of my painkillers!' Their father crowed. 'Ain't got nothin' in 'em – jus' some low grade morphine.' He drawled. 'The shit barely takes the edge off anymore!  
'Why did ya do that?'  
'Thought it would make him relaxed...Have a real father and son talk...Clear the air.'  
'That true, baby brother?' Merle looked back to Daryl who was shaking his head frantically, begging him with his eyes to not be taken in by their father's lies.  
The stupid boy thought they were truth pills!' Will laughed again, merrily like a jolly grandfather. Or a Santa Claus minus the red cheeks bursting with good health but his sons knew better. 'So gullible!'  
Merle glanced back at his brother again and watched him take in a sharp breath and hug his knees. Looking small like he used to when they were kids and he was scared. At least he looked like he'd got control over his limbs again.  
'It's OK, it's OK.' Merle crooned over at him before he turned his attention back to their father.  
'Where are they?' He patted the sleeping bag and the floor of the tent, searching under their belongings until he found the small prescription bottle.  
He read the label and saw that their father had been telling the truth about the white pills.  
'I'll take these.' He grinned at his father's look of panic.  
'No, ya can't...The pain...' He gasped and even appealed to his youngest son but Daryl deliberately turned away silently.  
'I'm due one soon...' His face contorted suddenly with pain and he grabbed his side. The suspicion that maybe he was playacting or exaggerating crossed the older Dixon brother's mind but then he dismissed it. He grinned heartlessly at him.  
'Oh, don't worry, Dad. I'm sure ya tell the others and they'll get some more for ya the next time they go on a run. Or ya can ask Herschell if he's got any... 'Cept I don't think anyone'll help ya when I tell'em what ya did.'  
'Ya wouldn't.' He gasped in pain. 'I didn't do nothin' to ya brother, I swear. We were jus' talkin', was all.'  
'Yeah, looked like it. I meant what ya did to me when I was a kid...Tell'em ya dangerous, sick or not. Don't think Rick'll take too kindly to ya hangin' around his ....Likely to jus' chuck ya out.'  
Will laughed again. 'A pussy like ya wouldn't dare otherwise ya would have told him by now. Let'em know that ya were ya Daddy's little bitch in bed? No, ya couldn't.'  
Daryl winced but his brother only smiled, showing all his teeth.  
'I'll do anythin' to get ya out of our lives for once and for all. They won't blame me. It wasn't my fault! I was jus' a kid!'  
'And I will.' Daryl spoke up then. 'I'll tell 'em what ya are.'  
Will goggled disbelievingly at the both of them, looking from one to the other, holding his side, trying to will the pain away that had let itself be felt since his oldest had burst in on them.  
'So get out now, Dad. We gotta clean up ya mess.'  
'First give me my pills and then I'll go.' He swiped at Merle who took a step back, hands in his pocket.  
'No. Ya can go without'em. Go and ask Herschel.'  
'Please.' The old man begged, desperation in his eyes and both of them startled because they'd never heard that tone in his voice before. Or heard him beg for anything.  
'Give 'em to him.' Daryl ordered his brother.  
'Are ya serious?'  
'Yeah. Jus' do it!' He insisted.  
Merle sheepishly put his hand back in his pocket and tossed the bottle down. Watched in amusement to see their father scrabbling for it then kicked him hard while he was on the floor, deliberately aiming for where his liver was.  
'Merle!' Now the old bastard was rolling around the floor in agony while his oldest son laughed scornfully down at him and drew back his boot to kick him in the same place again. He was enjoying this and getting revenge for them at the same time.  
'That's enough!' Daryl snapped. 'Get out of here, Dad, if ya know what's good for ya.'  
…  
As soon as their father staggered out, hastily swallowing 3 of the white pills as he left, So much for just one Merle thought nastily, Daryl took one look at his brother and broke down again. Merle comforted him as best as he could.  
'What did he do to ya, huh?' He wound his arms around him gently.  
His brother didn't reply, only carried on sobbing against his chest while he stroked his hair, his arms, even the nape of his neck that always got him calm before. But not this time.  
'What was he whisperin' to ya when I came in? Tell Merle.'  
Daryl only shook his head.  
'Was it about what happened at Woodbury?'  
'He was there.' He spoke quietly but his trembling doubled at that, his chest hitching as he struggled for breath, giving him a clue.  
Merle's own breath hitched in his chest as if in sympathy. 'What do ya mean?'  
'He was there, he was fuckin' THERE!' Daryl sobbed. 'He knew things...things I ain't told nobody...They had me drugged most of the time...'  
Merle carried on stroking his hair. 'Did he...Do ya remember him?'  
His voice was full of suppressed horror. 'I don't want to talk about it!' Daryl snapped and his brother knew better than to press him. He'd tell him when he was ready or maybe never...Meanwhile, his mind whirled with so many terrible possibilities he could hardly bear it. But it was their Dad - even he wouldn't...  
Wouldn't do what? His mind taunted him.  
'Sh...Sh...baby...'  
'Don't fuckin' call me that!'  
'Sorry. I'll sort it out this time, promise. I'm gonna go and tell Rick what he did to me...He's gotta listen!'  
'No, ya don't have to...' Daryl managed to get out the words. 'Probably won't believe ya anyway.'  
'We'll see.'  
But his brother wouldn't be soothed and he cursed their old man not for the first time. Wishing Daryl had let him put him out of his misery and theirs earlier before he could come back and make all the progress they'd made since he was rescued for nothing.  
Merle knew he had to try something else. So he ran his hands up his Daryl's shirt to stroke the skin there.  
'No – don't!' Bad move – his brother immediately panicked and pushed him away.  
'Sh...' He took hold of him again, a little more firmly this time.  
'Didn't mean it like that...as if I were gonna try anythin' with ya in this state, huh? Think I want ya like that when ya upset like this?' He lied.  
Daryl whimpered but let him put his arm around him again and hold him close.  
'Sh...Jus' tell me what the bastard said to ya. What he did. Come on.'  
But Daryl wouldn't.  
Eventually after he didn't know how long but the sun was sinking in the sky, his brother finally stopped weeping . Merle knew that they were cooking the squirrels he'd caught when he let Daryl sleep late, he could smell them and despite all the drama, he was hungry.  
'Come on.' He pulled his brother up by the arm. 'Ya hungry?'  
Daryl shook his head and slumped back down again. Merle prayed that he wasn't going back to being how he was before. Not eating.  
'I'm gonna tell Rick now, OK?'  
His brother looked at him in surprise even though he'd already told him he was going to. But Daryl hadn't really believed it... To admit that he'd been weak and powerless and used in such a shameful manner by their own father...even if it wasn't his fault. (how often he had to tell himself that but he still didn't really believe it) ...used like a whore in place of their mother.  
'Comin'?'  
Daryl shrugged. 'Think I'll stay here. Unless ya need me to come with ya...' But Merle could see that he was reluctant to leave the tent.  
'I'll be OK. ' He told him even though he felt like he could have done with him there for backup and handed him his gun. 'But if he comes back here, shoot him. I mean it this time, OK?'  
Daryl gave a small, grim smile before he turned his back to lie back down on his side.  
Merle glanced back at him worriedly before he undid the tent's flap. Not sure if he should leave him alone.  
'Don't worry about me. I'll be OK.'  
Yet he still hesitated, uncertain.  
….  
Merle walked past the campfire where the delicious smells were wafting from, making his stomach rumble, getting his freaked out and drugged brother to finally calm down had taken ages. He wondered why the morphine (if that's what it had really been, he thought sourly) hadn't made his brother sleepy and mellow instead.  
The food he'd caught without Daryl wasn't ready yet, was being cooked by Beth and her sister on dinner duty tonight with Glenn helping. They looked at him coldly as he went past but didn't bother to greet him. No surprise there.  
No sign either of their old man, he hoped that the bastard would have the sense to keep a low profile after what happened today even if he was hungry. The cancer didn't seem to be affecting his appetite just yet.  
He made his way decisively to the leader's tent – not the one he shared with his family but the kind of makeshift office he'd set up. There was even a small desk with pen and paper inside.  
He called out before he went in. 'Ya there, Rick? I need to speak to ya.'  
'Come in.'  
No surprise Shane was there to discuss camp business and Merle glared at him.  
'Alone.' He snapped.  
Shane's eyebrows rose and he looked at his buddy for direction.  
'That's OK. Go, Shane. I think I know what this is about.' Rick sighed.  
Merle took a deep, shaky breath. He really didn't want to do this...tell anyone, especially this arrogant ex-cop who had abandoned his brother and who he still blamed for what Woodbury did to him.  
He'd never wanted Daryl to find out, not in a million years. Make him carry the guilt but it had happened.  
He'd set his personal pride aside to protect Daryl, he personally didn't give a shit about the bastard's kid – would serve Rick right if their father molested the brat but if it meant that he would drive out their father to die alone and he didn't mess with his little brother anymore, he'd do it. He'd make himself weak and naked even in front of this man, telling him his darkest secret.  
That once he'd been a Dixon unable to fight back.

He cleared his throat before he began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

'


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly was Daddy Dixon whispering to poor Daryl when he had him in his clutches? And was he really there at Woodbury and did he join in with them?

Merle

Reluctantly, I moved to Rick the Prick's tent (that's what I called him in my mind). After all, I could never forgive him for not caring enough to realise that Daryl wasn't with me and had got captured or for not even trying to help him when they got him back. Still didn't appreciate Daryl and all he did for the group in my opinon.  
Ungrateful bastards, all of them.   
Fuck 'em. They all thought they were better than them, looked down on us as dumb redneck trash. I would have left a long time ago except Daryl insisted on staying. Was close to the Chink kid – Glen and his girlfriend.  
At least Shane had left by then. No way did I want him or anyone else to be eavesdropping on this shit...I even went and poked my head out of the tent once or twice to check the bastard wasn't there before I turned back to Rick.   
The leader looked up at me in a slightly bored expression and rested his face on his hands. To be fair, he looked pretty exhausted with dark rings under his eyes.  
'Listen, ya got to get rid of my Dad. He's dangerous.'  
'Herschel says he's dyin' of liver cancer.'   
'So, ya know.'  
'How dangerous can a dyin' man be?'  
'Look, asshole.' He blinked and recoiled slIghtly to me calling him that but he was so blind!   
'He ain't got nothin' to lose! And ya seen my brother's back, ain't ya? When ya rescued him from Woodbury.'  
He shifted uncomfortably at that.  
'I know ya did and he's after ya son, Rick. Did ya know he likes little boys?'  
I was gratified to see him flinch and gasp a little in shock at that, finally wake up.  
'He fucked me, Rick. And Daryl too maybe at Woodbury. 'Cos now he says he remembers him being there...delayed recall, repressed memories and all that jazz. Ya know they had him drugged up to the eyeballs most of the time so he barely knew where or even who he was.'  
His eyes flew open at that in shock.  
'Wha...Why ya tellin' me all this?'  
'Think I wanna tell ya? Have ya laugh at me behind my back with the rest of 'em?'  
'I would never do that.' He spoke quietly with solemn sincerity and part of me believed him.   
'It'll stay between you, me and Daryl. I swear.'  
'Ya better. If this gets out...' I loomed over him and he recoiled as I left my threat open.  
I'm s... sorry...' He stammered. 'Ya sure ya father was really there? That he...he joined in with them?'  
'Daryl thinks he was. Or at least that's what the bastard's been tellin' him. Taunting him about it...'  
'Oh God!' Rick shook his head in disbelief and I pressed home my advantage.  
'When I came back from hunting by myself today, he was in my sleeping bag. Had my brother, whispering shit to him. Daryl was cryin' and it took me ages for me to make him stop. And now I got to find myself a new sleeping-bag after I burn my old one. I didn't say this out loud, of course.  
'He was cryin'? Jesus! Is he OK now?'  
'No. But he might have a chance to get over it if ya get rid of him.'  
'I swear I didn't know! The old man seemed so sorry...said he wanted to make amends with his two sons before he died.'  
I did a double-take because Daddy Dearest had them all fooled.  
'Well, he ain't and he doesn't. He only wants to finish what he started and destroy Daryl before he pops on over. And if ya don't care about my brother...at least think about ya son. He hurts people, that's all he does and he's hurting my baby brother just by bein' here.'  
'How could I be so blind?' He groaned and clutched his head.  
'Yeah...How could ya? Daryl tells me he tried to warn ya but ya wouldn't listen.'  
He sighed regretfully.

 

'I'm only tellin' ya this to make ya see. Do ya think I want to tell ya all that shit? Dyin' or not, get rid of him!'  
'I will.' He gathered up the papers resolutely in his hands. 'I swear. I'll do it tomorrow.'  
He started fumbling with them and was clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter and having extracted this promise from him, I turned to leave. What more was there to say?'  
'How old were ya when it started, if I may ask?' I turned back to him in surprise. I had sworn to myself that I wasn't going to give him any more details than he needed and even what I said had been bad enough. But I found myself answering. Something about his quiet, calm voice.  
'About 11...See it's all fuzzy in my mind. Sick shit like that tends to be.'  
'And Daryl? Did he do it to him too?' His eyes were frantic now with pain and guilt which pleased me no end.  
'Not when he was a kid. 'Though he sure wanted to...'  
I was happy to see him recoil at that.  
'Because ya 'let' him to save Daryl. Right?'  
'Yeah.' I was surprised at how quickly he got it. Was smarter than I gave him credit for.  
'Did he keep his promise? Are ya sure he never touched him?'  
'Yeah...I think so. My brother didn't know anythin' about it when I told him and I kept it from him for years.'  
'I'm sorry. Ya mus' really love him to save him like that.' His tone was gentle, hypnotic, just drawing out more and more details from me that I would never have dreamt giving him willingly.  
Oh, ya don't how much. I thought to myself but didn't say and merely shrugged. 'He's my baby brother. What would ya have done?'  
'I...I don't know.' He answered honestly. 'I'm so sorry that I didn't take him seriously...Should have realised that just him being here would make him regress.'  
Yet his sympathy and his big words that were too little too late made me mad. From what Daryl told me, reading between the lines, I guess he hadn't had much understanding for him when they rescued him although he had never ever complained openly about him. Was doggedly loyal to them and I didn't understand why. Thinking about how they had treated him, no one having the guts to try and help him except Glen, not even Carol - made me mad again. The way Daryl told me without meaning to, they'd tied him to the bed and he'd been crying then too and calling out for me.  
But I wasn't there. I would always blame myself for not being there when he needed me most. Not at the beginning anyway.  
'Listen... I ain't tellin' ya 'cos I want ya pity, believe me, tellin' ya was the last thing on earth I would have done except for Daryl. And ya jus' better pray he ain't touched ya kid.' Because it was very strange that he didn't seem concerned for Carl after what I had just told him. If I were a father – and a good one at that - I imagined I would have rushed outside to find my son and hold him close as soon as I heard what I had to say. Ask him if the old man had touched him before I found the old bastard and tore him apart, limb from limb.  
It wasn't my problem – Daryl was, so I left it.   
'He'll be gone by tomorrow night.' He called after me.   
Too bad that he was never able to keep his promise when things went from bad to worse.   
….........

I crawled back into our tent and glanced at the sleeping bag I would never use again to find my brother rocking himself to and fro and mumbling to himself. He barely glanced at the bowls of cooked food I brought for us and feeling the same as he did, I threw them outside the tent. It turned out that I didn't have any appetite either.  
'Daryl...Ya OK?' I laid a hand on his arm. Bad move. He pulled away.  
Stupid question too.  
'He knows...he knew about what Jones said to me. About fuckin' me to death. And how they cut me while they did it.' And I never told no-one that shit!' It was like he hadn't even heard me come into the tent, was just carrying on his own monologue aloud.  
''Cept me, remember. Maybe he was spyin' on us for a long time? Heard us?'  
Daryl grunted disbelievingly.   
'That would be jus' like him to lay low, get the lay of the land – and us before he turned up out of the blue, wouldn't it, baby brother?'

Daryl said nothing and I wasn't sure he even heard. I knew that I sounded like I was just trying to convince myself even more than him.  
'Wanna tell me now what he did to ya yesterday?' I asked as if I didn't know the answer already.  
'Ain't what he did, it's what he said...' Daryl sobbed while I stroked his hair cautiously with one hand. 'He said he was one of them...that he joined in.'  
'He's a fuckin' liar! He just wished he'd fucked ya too but he couldn't.'  
'He...He did. He said he was there!'  
'Are ya sure he really was and that he ain't jus' fuckin' with ya?'  
I tried to sow doubts in his mind when there had never been any in mine, just as I told Rick. Not really. But if I could convince him it had never happened, even if Dad had really been there, where was the harm in that little white lie? He could get on with his life then.  
'Ya know, I never saw him and I was the Governor's right hand man and we kept a strict records of people going in and out. Security was tight as a virgin's asshole and I never saw him in Woodbury ...Not ….with the prisoners...I swear!' This wasn't a lie. I never saw him there or heard his name mentioned although he claimed that's where he left to come to our camp.  
'Yeah and I guess ya know all about that!' My brother snarled viciously at me like a wild animal.  
I had no reply to that and all it implied. He knew what I'd done there and enjoyed doing after the first few times and the guilt receeded. I could look at those wretched men and women and no longer see them as human beings. Listen to their screams and pleadings for mercy with a deaf ear.  
It was easier that way...to think of them as just lumps of meat. Doomed anyway.  
'He's lyin'...It's his own twisted fantasy. I'm tellin' ya, the old bastard wasn't there...if he wasn't no use to the town, they would send him to the Walker pits...Anyone can see he ain't got long to live. Jus' a sick old parasite, is all. No good to anybody...They didn't put up with people like him in that place, I know that.'  
He looked up at me with hopeful eyes.  
'Besides, ya would have remembered somethin' like that, wouldn't ya? If he did it to ya too.'  
'How do ya know I didn't repress the memory?' He looked up at me in open distress with tears running down his face. 'He said the Governor knew who he was and got a kick out of forcin' him to do it...But he didn't need no forcin', he told me, he only pretended. Not when it came to me...his own son...that he would have done it to me years ago but he had ya for that and besides he made a promise.'  
I trembled despite himself. Woodbury and meeting Dad had opened up a whole can of worms for us both. I knew I should have choked the life out of the bastard and not let Daryl stop me. Then he wouldn't have had a chance to put his sickness into my little brother's head and make him remember.  
I tried one more time. 'Ya sure it was Dad?'  
'I keep tellin' ya he knows...He knows...' My little brother whimpered and hugged his knees tighter, still rocking himself. Fuck knows how long he'd been doing it – since I left to go and speak to Rick?  
'Besides, now I remember...The Governor asking me how did it feel to be raped by my Daddy? Was he gentle with me? I remember now!' He hissed and thumped his thigh with his fist. 'Even though I blocked it out! How could I be so stupid not to remember?'  
Fuck. It hurt my big brother's heart to see my usually tough-as-nails brother vulnerable like this but I couldn't blame him.  
'Don't know why I forgot up until now...Jus' seein' him brought it all back...' He shuddered. 'Then the things he said...'  
'It's natural ...Ya didn't want to believe that...remember that... Who the fuck would?'  
'Sh...' I did the only other thing I could do since denials weren't going to work now and reached over and put one arm around him. Daryl bowed his head gratefully to my shoulder, drawing on the comfort and I felt him shudder against me.  
'Hush now. I spoke to Rick and he's gonna chuck him out tomorrow.'  
My brother looked up at me and his lip trembled in fear. 'But what if he comes back?'  
'I'll deal with him and I mean it this time. He's had his chances.'  
Poor baby. I thought to himself while I brushed back a lose strand of my brother's hair behind his ear like I knew he liked. Ya so sexy when ya hurtin'. Then a wave of self-loathing hit me and I held him tighter. Was I a pervert too who got off on my brother's pain?  
'I know he was 'cos he knew about Louie.' Daryl dully announced suddenly.   
I drew my breath in. He had never mentioned him but I vaguely remembered the big black guy but he hadn't joined our 'interrogation teams' yet while I was there.  
'What about him?' I asked him gently. 'Come on, ya can tell me.'  
'He ...He...What he would always say to me before he got started...' Daryl paused while he flushed with shame, 'I ain't gonna hurt ya, ...ya so beautiful.' Then he did a passable imitation of the big black man's broad Mississippi accent.   
'And did he?'   
'He tried not to. Sometimes it felt like he didn't want to force me, was jus' doin' it because of the others.. I...I always hoped I got him...But in a way he was the worst 'cos...'cos...'  
Now he was sobbing in humiliation.  
'Because what?' I pressed but it didn't matter because I knew anyway and ran my fingers through his hair.  
'No...No...' Daryl turned his head away. 'Don't make me tell.' He pleaded pathetically.  
'Ain't gonna make ya do nothin' ya don't want.' I growled. 'Think ya had enough of that, don't ya?'  
Daryl buried his face in my chest in answer and I began to rock us consolingly.  
'After everythin' we done, ya can't tell ya big brother?'  
'He ….He made me come.'  
I said nothing but just stroked his hair in reassurance.  
'M...More than once.' He sobbed.  
'Ain't ya fault.'   
'I...I didn't want to...Ya gotta believe me!' He shoved my arms off him.  
'Sh...I know that, brother. It's jus' 'cos he didn't hurt ya like the others.'  
Daryl said nothing.  
'Ya didn't want to, didn't like it. Jus' a physical reaction, was all.'  
'Dad was laughing at me too.'  
'What else did he say to ya today?' I pressed him further, pulling him back to me. I needed to know the worst and he didn't resist.  
'I tried to move...fight him off even before he made me take the pills...but I...but I couldn't move. It was like being back there...tied up and drugged to the eye-balls or being a kid again...'  
'Sh...'  
'How can he still be stronger than us, huh? Don't make no sense.'  
Unseen by him, I narrowed my eyes to slits because I had an idea how.  
'Why couldn't I fuckin' move? It was jus' like when we were young..Couldn't fight him off...' He wailed and clenched his fists. 'Jus' like with the Governor's men when they drugged me...'  
'Sh...Don't matter now. Tell me what else he said to ya...'  
'He...He said I was a pretty-boy fag and they could see I wanted it that's why they chose me and it was all my fault and I wanted it really...'  
'Jesus fucked!' I hissed, then cursed.  
Daryl wept a little before he could carry on. 'That it wasn't rape because how could ya rape a whore? 'Cos I'm a slut in the makin' and they wouldn't have done it to me otherwise and that's all I'm good for. Now I'm ruined, used-up and broken.'  
I snarled and clenched my fists in outrage.  
'Daddy knows.' Daryl drawled, giving a good imitation of our father's speech – good enough to make my skin crawl. 'Cos I'm a pussy – jus' look at me crying and dumb enough to let myself get captured...No real Dixon worth his salt would have. Or cried when the enemy tortured him – what else did I expect?' He whimpered a little then.   
'Ain't true. They did it to whoever – men, women...anyone who didn't fit in or spoke against him. Enemies who got captured.'  
He looked at me doubtfully.  
'Bastard. I'm glad Rick's finally seen sense and finally gonna get rid of him.'  
'But I ain't no fag, Merle! I ain't like that! I don't even like men, ya gotta believe me!'  
I chuckled despite myself and leant forward to peck his lips drawing a hungry response from him even upset as he was. 'Yeah, but ya like kissin' me, doncha?'  
'Yes, I mean No...That's different...But...' His confusion even as he was hurting was adorable and I just couldn't resist.  
''What else did he say?'  
'That I'll never get over it or be normal again. Never be able to be with a woman ever again...Especially since I let ya....'  
'Fuck him. He'll be dead soon. Let's hope it's long-drawn out and painful.'  
'He threatened Carl! Said he was gonna give him a bad death – and ya know what that means - if I didn't take the pills. I had to! He told me they would make me tell the truth whether I wanted to or not...'  
He paused.  
'So I did. I told him about what they did to me. Everythin'. But he must have known most of it before he told me he was there. Sick fuck!'  
At least my tough baby brother had finally stopped crying and was looking back at me with that hard, merciless glare that I was used to. Looked like a Dixon again, at least. To be honest, I preferred him like that than the other way. Made me feel like a perverted shit who was taking advantage when we did it, even though he was a grown man and no weakling. The opposite in fact.  
'Why ya so surprised, Merle? After what he did to ya when ya were jus' a little kid?'  
Feeling uneasy, I turned away. 'Don't. Ain't the same.'  
'Yeah. Yeah it is.'   
'Daryl...'   
Daryl shrugged me off.   
'How could I forget he was there?' He reached up and punched himself in the eye hard. Reached up to do it again but I managed to stop him in time.  
'Don't.' I grabbed him and pinned his arms under mine. 'Don't...Don't ya hurt yaself no more...'  
Daryl struggled but I rocked him like I used to when he was a baby. Always worked.  
'Ain't ya fault...They had ya drugged most of the time...'  
'But my own Dad fuckin' me? What kinda idiot forgets that?'  
'Sh...Don't, baby.'  
'Stop coddlin' me, Merle! It ain't helpin'!' He freed himself again from and got up. 'It ain't about me! Carl's in danger, maybe even Sophia!'   
'Now don't ya worry about that. Told ya we'll be rid of him for good by tomorrow. Bastard's dyin' anyway.'

I'd just got him calm again when the screaming started.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh...What's happened? Is it Daddy Dixon getting his revenge on his sons and Rick wanting to kick him out - dying- of the camp? Or has he hurt Carl?

Daryl's head snapped up at the sound – he recognised it as one of the Greene girls and he let out a protective snarl in response. Merle grabbed his weapon too when the others shouted, taking up the cry. Now they could hear it, 'Walkers!'  
'What?' The younger Dixon stared at his brother. 'Here...Now?'  
'Get up.' Merle grabbed him from under his armpits. 'Come on.'  
'I'm goin', I'm goin'.' He shook him off and they rushed out the tent. To witness chaos.  
It wasn't quite a herd but enough to be a real threat if not dealt with quickly.  
Rick rushed over. 'OK?' He glanced at them quizzically, remembering the events of the day.  
'Fine.' Daryl brushed off his concern. 'Where are we needed?'  
'Over there.' He pointed then ran off with his pickaxe to plant it into a zombie's skull. Looked like it had been an old woman – her sparse white hair was falling out in clumps and her torn, filthy clothes hung off her shrunk and rotting frame. The leader grimaced and looked away from her withered breasts as if embarrasssed before he swung the blade. Merle's sharp ears even heard him even say 'Forgive me' before he did. He was surprised because most of them no longer saw the Walkers as unfortunate victims who nevertheless, still retained some vestige of their humanity.  
The Dixons rushed over to the main camp area. It seemed that the Undead had been attracted to the kitchen area and Daryl glanced at the remains of their uneaten dinner slop but brushed it off. He knew that's not what had attracted them.  
'Come on!' His brother urged.  
They helped some of the women dispatch the Walkers easily. Afterwards, when they were burning the bodies, (there had been about 30) Rick looked around checking his people.  
'Anyone been bitten or hurt?' The leader looked round, examing every dirty, exhausted face.  
People shook their heads. Their dilligence had paid off – the decision to place sentries taking turns at night in a rota system had likely saved all their lives.  
But one.  
Dirk fidgeted and looked away when the leader asked them. As if anyone who'd been bitten would say! He thought to himself.  
'Do we have any idea why this happened?' Dale spoke up. 'I thought it was too cold for them up here?'  
'Apparently not anymore.' Shane snapped and Rick looked at him sharply.  
'They're runnin' out of food down there...' Carol said. 'They must have used up all their supplies.'  
Several people fidgeted and shuffled awkwardly on their feet at that euphenism of hers.  
'What we gonna do?' Glen asked, looking around at them. 'We're not safe...'  
'No, we ain't.' Daryl spoke quietly and everyone looked at him. He rarely spoke since his Dad had come back. The dark shadows under his eyes that looked like bruises didn't escape anyone's eyes.  
'We need to move up further the mountain at first light – it's too late now. And double our sentry patrols tonight.'  
'Good idea.' Rick approved making his old school buddy scowl.  
'Ya volunteerin'?' Shane asked him challengingly. He didn't like how when the archer spoke, everybody listened now. Took the uncouth redneck seriously since he'd replaced him as Rick's right hand man.  
'Yeah. Double shift.' Daryl retorted just as sneeringly.  
'Ya don't have to do that...' Rick tried to interrupt but Daryl insisted and Shane had no choice but to offer to do the same. Otherwise he would have looked bad in front of everybody. He glared back at the Dixons who were looking back at him with identical mocking little smirks on their lips. He felt like wiping them off their faces, whatever the younger brother had been through. He seemed fully recovered now.  
'I'll come with ya, bro.' Daryl's brother offered but Daryl only scowled at him in reply. He knew that it wasn't pure altruism...With Merle it never was unless it came to him. His brother always had an ulterior motive.  
'We'll take the far side of the camp perimeter as an extra precaution. We're not tired.' Maggie volunteered herself and Glen. Not to be left out, they wanted to help out too. Besides, everyone was shaken up by the unexpected attack. Just then, however, the Dixons were searching the group of people with their eyes.  
'Where is he?' Daryl hissed to Merle.  
The latter cleared his throat. 'Dad...' He called out. 'Has anyone see our Dad?'  
Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads.  
Merle took his torch and went searching in all the tents and bushes and so did the others, except Daryl and a cursarory search begain.  
'Do ya think the Walkers got'im?' Daryl asked when his brother returned, shaking his head.  
'I fuckin' hope so. Although I was hopin' to send the bastard to hell myself.'  
'Merle!' Daryl exclaimed in shock.  
His brother looked at him in disbelief. 'Ya tellin' me ya don't want tot? After what he did to ya?'  
'Keep ya fuckin' voice down!' But the youngest Dixon's eyes were haunted.  
'I'm sorry, we can't find him.' Glen came over to tell them the bad news.  
'Well, we might as well and go sstart patrolling, then.' Merle replied while the teenager looked at him in shock.  
'Don't ya care?' He began.  
'He's tough, he can take care of himself.' Merle explained.  
'Still...He's an old man and he's sick...'  
'We don't care, get it?' Daryl suddenly snapped while Glen and Maggie goggled at him.  
'Come on.' He dragged his brother with him without another word to them.  
Behind him, he heard his friend and his girlfriend talking about his reaction in hushed tones. 'Did ya hear that?'  
'Well, ya know what he did to them.' Maggie replied.  
'Yeah, I know but still? He's their Dad. I'd give anythin' to see mine again.'  
The Dixons ignored them. They didn't understand and Merle put his arm around his brother's shoulders as they made their way to their section of the perimeter. Only he knew that he was shaking.  
'Come on.' He drew him to him as soon as they reached the place. 'Sh...'  
Daryl leaned against him, looked like he was gasping for air. He'd lashed out because he didn't want to show weakness in front of the group, naturally. Their Daddy was still a sore subject with them both.  
'Poor baby.' Merle had taken to crooning this to him lately.  
'Don't call me that!' Daryl snarled.  
'Sorry.'  
'No, seriously, what do ya think's happened to him?'  
'He's burnin' in hell, I hope. After they ate him piece by piece..'  
'Ya sick.' Daryl's voice wavered.  
'Can't blame me. After what he did to ya...'  
'Stop talkin' about it! I jus' wanna forget.'  
Merle stopped curling his fingers through his baby brother's hair to plant kisses along his throat. 'Oh, I can make ya forget all 'bout him...' He promised.  
Daryl arched his back and squirmed. His brother always knew what he liked, what was likely to make him melt.  
'That's it, baby brother.' Merle was growing bolder now and sliding a hand seductively up under his shirt to stroke his stomach. 'I can make ya feel real good...'  
'No, Merle! Stop!' He pushed his hand away.  
His brother gave a feral growl of disappointment. 'Jus' thought we could have ourselves a little stress-relief, is all.'  
'Ya sick! As if I'd wanna after...after...' His breath hitched in his chest. 'That's the only reason ya came here, weren't it?'  
Merle chuckled as he wrapped his arms around again, making him feel snug. 'Ya know me so well...Dunno why ya care about them so much. They don't care about ya. Ya know Rick didn't believe ya?'  
'That ain't true! Anyway, he does now since ya told him everythin'!'  
'Oh, don't worry. He's cool. Ain't gonna tell no-one...'  
'He's alive, Merle. I can feel him...' He turned his face away and shuddered against him.  
'Sh...Even if he is, big bro ain't gonna let him get to ya...'  
'Would ya let me the fuck go already?'  
Merle laughed sardonically and opened his arms and Daryl scrambled out of them. He was amazed at how quickly his brother seemed to recover from their father.  
'I think it's about time we started to act like normal brothers again, don't ya?'  
'Whatever ya wamt.' Merle pretended to bemore casual than he actually felt -far from it - when the last thing he wanted was to think that it was all over between them for good. That Daryl would never let him touch him like he wanted to. If that happened, he knew he'd be truly alone because nobody liked him in the camp. He wasn't respected like his brother – he didn't have one friend. Let alone even a piece of pussy – Andrea had kicked him out of bed one night and given him no real reason. Her rejection had hit him out of nowhere, it seemed. Making him suspect that someone had seen their little midnight rendez-vous and now she was worried about the rest of the hypocrites finding out. He thought she had more balls than that to care what people thought but apparently not.  
So Merle wasn't about to give up on what he'd always longed for and let Daryl pass their weird sex off as mere temporary episodes of losing control with each other. Convincing himself no doubt that it had all been a kind of twisted celebration of relief and heightened emotion from finally getting revenge on his assailants.  
But there was one left. Unless he was dead.  
But Merle didn't believe that either. He could feel the living spirit of their old man out there, in the woods, like a malevalent force stalking and spying on them. Waiting for the right time to attack and get his own revenge on them. Maybe he had heard Merle or Daryl to get rid of him somehow? Dying or not, old or not, he was still a Dixon and was too smart to let himself be taken down by a few, slow Walkers.  
Shivering himself at the thought – the old bastard still held that power over him, he drew close to his brother and held him tight despite his muted protests. But Daryl didn't really mind, he could tell at the way the tension slowly melted from his body. After all, he was the only person Merle had ever loved more than himself, he'd sacrificed everything for him and would do it all again in a heartbeat. Not one of his women had ever come close. Daryl knew that, had always known that.  
Was he imagining the very same thing? That their father was out there in the woods somewhere, just waiting for his chance?  
'Sh, baby.' He whispered in his ear. 'I got ya.' What I wouldn't do for a bottle of JD's right now but he wouldn't let us drink on duty, anyway. Would be worried about endangering the group.  
This time his brother didn't tell him to shut up.  
No Walkers appeared but just before their double watch was over, the other couple came up to them.  
'Anythin'?' Merle demanded abruptly.  
'No. You?' Maggie answered, frowning in concern a little at the way he was holding his brother. Jus' like he used to before he got better. 'Is he OK?'  
'I'm right here, ya know?!' Daryl looked up.  
She startled back.  
'Sorry,' He shrugged apologetically. 'Jus' tired, is all.'  
'We all are.' Glenn yawned and covered his mouth with his hand.  
'Are ya worried about ya Dad?' Maggie wouldn't let it rest. 'We'll find him.'  
'Yeah, I'm sure we will – as one of them.' Daryl snapped sarcastically. 'I'm sure he's jus' fuckin' peachy...'  
Her boyfriend immediately rounded on him. 'Ya don't have to talk to her like that. She was jus' tryin' to make ya feel better, is all.'  
'I don't need...'  
'Well, she shouldn't have.' Merle cut in and squeezed his brother reassuringly. 'That's what I'm here for.'  
'Come on, let's go.' Glen made a face at her and pulled her away.  
'Bye!' Merle called loudly after them but they didn't answer.  
'Why did ya say that, huh?'  
''Cos we both know he's not. He's fuckin' out there!' And Daryl pointed out towards the woods and shrank back against his brother and buried his face in his chest like before. He was no coward but what their father had done to him and the way he'd taunted him for it made him seek reassurance from his big brother again.  
Merle rocked them, feeling an unsettling sense of deja vu. 'We don't know that for sure...' But he knew in his guts that their father was alive and unfortunately, still kicking.  
'I jus' wanted to shut her up. Make her stop talkin' about him...' He trembled.  
Merle stroked his hair soothingly. 'Yeah, I know the feeling, bro.'  
They sat like that in silence and after a while Merle stopped moving. Every time one felt like dozing off, the other would dig him in the ribs or hiss in his ear. It was a real struggle to keep awake towards the end.  
They turned around gratefully when they heard the footsteps of the two men relieving them approaching. It was Eddie and Mike.  
They glanced briefly down at them huddled like that defiantly on the ground but showed no surprise, unlike Daryl's friends. Didn't offer reassurances that they would find their father soon either which was a relief to both of them. They just gave a curt greeting which the Dixons returned in kind.  
'Fuck.' Daryl sighed, swaying in exhaustion on his feet after they stood up and leaning against his brother. 'All I jus' wanna do is sleep...' His eyes were fluttering.  
'Ya sure that's all ya wanna do?' Merle leered at him like a pantomime villian as they walked back to their tent. 'Can't we have some fun before we do?'  
Daryl looked back anxiously at the other two behind them to see if the other men had heard. If they had, they gave no sign, probably too wrapped up in each other or didn't bat an eyelid at two brothers messing around with each other. They were married after all. That had discomfited some of the older, more conservative or bible-bashing members of the group and this was probably why they kept themselves to themselves. They didn't need other people, they had each other. Merle could only wish that Daryl was just as content with him.  
'Shut up, Merle.' He punched him on the arm irritably. 'Too tired...'  
That gave his brother renewed hope.  
Even so, he sighed in relief when Merle pulled him to him just before they literally passed out from exhaustion after forcing themselves to stay away for three hours. He was forced to use the sleeping bag their hated father had crawled in, it was just too cold even with the spare blanket and he grimacedand wrinkled his nose as he did. He had briefly considered seeing if cosying up with his brother would be enough but the way his breath frosted in the air, he knew it wouldn't work.  
'We need to get a new sleeping-bag and more blankets, baby brother.' He whispered in his ear but Daryl didn't hear. Was already snoring lightly. Merle got as close to him as he could get, to take advantage of his body heat. Daryl had always burned like a furnace, probably didn't even need his sleeping-bag.  
He sighed. Too late now.  
….  
The next day there was no sign of their father or Walkers when the Dixons woke up a couple of hours later than they did normally.  
'Could'ave jus' been a rogue group...' Dale mused hopefully at the meeting straight after breakfast. He was reluctant to pack up all his stuff and move again. He liked it here.  
'We ain't takin' the chance.' Rick was firm.  
But moving made no difference. Didn't save the lives that were lost.


	28. Chapter 28

TTWH 28

i

Daryl

I looked up at my brother who'd found a new sleeping-bag from somewhere and was preparing to bed down for the night. We'd just moved – minus the break-off group – further up the mountain and it had taken three hours to walk here.

I wondered where the others were...if they'd reached the bottom yet, if they were OK.

Because before we moved, there had been a group meeting and there had been opposition to moving further up.

'Ya sure we're gonna be high enough?' Shane had asked when everyone had gathered that morning. 'What's to stop'em moving up further the mountain?''

My brother added his voice to his while I stared at seeing a) Merle actually contribute to a group discussion b) agreeing with Shane.

'Yeah. What's to stop'em findin' us when they run out of food down below?' Others took up the cry while Merle stood back and smiled, his work done. I could almost see him wiping his hands.

Rick held up his hands for silence. 'It's jus' a temporary measure. The last herd wasn't even that big – we dealt with 'em. Probably the last of them for a long while.'

'We can't bank on that!' Carol interrupted. 'Wouldn't we be better off finding somewhere else?'

'Where?' Dale answered. 'We proved we can handle them when they come...'

'But what if it's a really big herd – bigger than the last one and we're outnumbered?' She argued.

'This is only temporary.' The leader repeated. 'We can start lookin' for somewhere more secure tomorrow. Send out search parties...'

'I don't know. I got a bad feeling about this.' Carol wasn't to be persuaded. Or reassured. 'I don't want to stay here tonight – if somethin' happens we'll be trapped.'

Others murmured in agreement.

'We stay here until we find somewhere better. Only for another couple of nights at the most. Tomorrow, there'll be a run to find somewhere.' Rick said.

'No!' She was resolute. She, like I guess a lot of us, was not the same person she used to be. Not scared of her shadow anymore and that of her brutish husband who was dead.

'Mommy?' Sophia looked up at her and took her hand.

'We stay here.' Rick was just as fixed on his decision.

'No.' Carol turned and appealed to the group. 'Who's comin' with me to start a new life somewhere down the mountain?'

'Carol, don't do this...' I spoke for the first time. 'We shouldn't split the group up, it ain't safe!'

She looked at me. 'Then come with me. You and Merle. Anyone else?' She turned around.

'We ain't goin' with ya! There's more safety in numbers!' I tried to convince her. She looked disappointed and I couldn't understand why she was doing what she was. It was more than crazy.

It was fucked up.

I looked at Rick who just stood there and scowled.

Most people looked at the both of them, clearly considering the better option.

'Now, that's enough!' He suddenly bellowed making her jump. 'Don't ya try and sow disharmony in the group!'

Everyone stared at him because he rarely ever even raised his voice. He was furious, I could tell with his arm muscles all bunched up with tension even though he was trying to control his rage.

Since when did I look at his arms? I shook my head mentally.

Carol turned back to him and folded her arms over her chest and ignored him. Appealed to the rest of us instead.

'This is a democracy, isn't it? Otherwise we're no better than those at Woodbury!'

That got him. He didn't want to be accused of being a tyrant. Not that and he took a step back at that and shrugged. 'Fine.' But he wasn't happy by any means. 'Jus' know that if they go with you, ya all likely to be killed.'

'Why? We can fight.' She patted the dagger hanging from its sheath on her belt and was clearly unfazed by his words of warning. 'Ya ain't a good leader no more, Rick, and I'm sorry to say it.'

He shook his head. 'Ya can't do this.'

'Well, come with me, then.'

'No. We're be safer near the top, where it's colder.'

'Who's comin' with me? Anyone?' She ignored him and most of the people who had been complaining about moving up the mountain joined her – Beth but not Maggie, Andrea, Dirk, and a few others whose faces I knew but their names I didn't.

'Beth!' Her sister called to her. Don't go! Daryl's right - ya'll die! We got more chance of surviving if we all stick together.'

'Come with us then!' Her expression was desperate as she unconsciously echoed Carol's words at her sister.

But Maggie shook her head and made to run to her but Glen tried to pull her back.

She pushed him away and started to cry. 'Please, sis.'

Beth turned to look apologetically at Carol who smiled ruefully, then shrugged.

'I'm sorry, but I can't leave her. She's my sister.' With that, she ran back to our group, sided with Rick.

Maggie threw her arms around her and cried in relief while behind me, my brother wrapped his arms around me from behind as if seeing them reminded him of how close he'd come to losing me. Like he wanted to assure himself that I was still there.

Nobody batted an eye-lid, if they even noticed, that was.

'Carol, ya crazy!' I shrugged his arms off me and started after her when she started off with her group down the moutain slope after a few cursory good-byes. 'We can't protect ya if ya go!' Yet I knew she had been unhappy with the way things were in the group and Rick's leadership. She'd voiced her concerns before and it seemed like the latest Walker attack was the last straw.

She turned back to look at me one last time and hugged me.

I couldn't help feeling that it was the last time I would see her.

...

Rick would live to regret his words. Meanwhile, there was no sign of Dad and we didn't bother to go looking for him. I never wanted to see him ever again and I knew my brother would shoot him dead on sight after what he'd done to me – he'd told me he would and I believed him. So our old man was keeping out of our way and we even let ourselves believe that he'd found some other place to go to and just crawl away to die.

It didn't stop me waking up screaming from a nightmare that I was there again. With my father joining in ...inside me and that first night near the top of the mountain in our tent I thought heard Dad's voice outside the tent.

Crooning to me again, they had my hands tied and he was pretending that they were forcing him to do it. The Governor thought he was torturing him too but he was giving him his long-life dream...

How had Dad got out of Woodbury? He never told us.

It was too sick to believe...how could I forget? The memories coming thick and fast now. On top of losing the others.

Merle held me tight to him. I snarled and fought him at first, mixing him up with my nightmare until he shook me irritably.

'It's me! Stop it.'

'No! Get off me, sick fuck!'

'Sh... Ya safe.' He was moving his hand through my hair, slowly making me calm down again.

But I wasn't just about Dad and what he did. 'Why did she do it?' I whispered.

'Dunno. But she ain't the only one who ain't happy with Rick.'

'Maybe we should have gone with her...'

'She's made her bed now. She can always come back...she knows where we are.'

'Why didn't Rick back down and we could have gone all together?'

'Ya know why. It's crawling with them down below.'

'And it ain't here?'

'At least the cold should hold them at bay.'

'Yeah, maybe. For how long?'

'Don't worry. She can take care of herself.' He rubbed the top of my arms. 'She's stronger than she looks...And she ain't alone...She's got some of the men with her like Dirk.'

'Yeah.' I rolled my eyes. 'And he's a lot of use. Did ya see how he looked?'

'He didn't look too hot, did he?'

It wast true, I thougth, looking back on it. He had looked flushed and feverish but with the drama of Carol splitting up the group, we'd thought nothing of it.

'Go back to sleep.' He kissed my forehead and urged my head down onto his lap. Stroked my hair until I drifted off.

The whole time I was thinking he'd never been like this with me ...not before Woodbury. Guess he thought I needed the extra love and attention even though I knew there had always been an ulterior motive underneath it all.

And I was right.

….

The next day, Rick didn't send out a scout party like he promised but he didn't look like he slept well.

'What's happened?' I said to him at breakfast. 'Why did ya let her go like that and take those people with her?' I was angry with him for being so weak.

He sighed and sunk his head on his hands. 'I dunno know. I couldn't stop her...Maybe she'll be OK. God, I'm so tired...Jus' tryin' to survive...'

'Well, ya should have tried harder!' I snapped.

He looked down at the table and looked so crestfallen that I regretted my harsh outburst. But it was true, he wasn't himself, hadn't been a long time. And who was to say he wouldn't lose it again? He had before when it got too much.

'I know. The world's fuckin' ended, who knows what to do for the best anymore?' I said, trying to make him feel better.

He looked up at me then and smiled thinly.

'Things ain't like the way they were before!' I pressed my point.

'I know.' He replied quietly.

I took my bowl of porridge and sat next to him. We were the only ones in the kitchen area, everyone had left to go and do their chores.

'I'm...I'm sorry I didn't listen to ya. When ya told me how dangerous how ya Dad was.'

I bowed my head. 'Don't matter. He's gone now.'

'Merle told me...that ya think he was in Woodbury with ya. That true?'

I put my spoon down, suddenly all my appetite was gone and my head sank even lower. Why was he bringing that up now?

'Yeah.' I said quietly, letting everything that answer implied sink in with him.

He put an arm around me and I flinched at the unexpected physical contact. I nearly asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing but bit it back. Then he pulled me to him, just like Merle did.

'I'm sorry. For everythin'...Not helpin' ya more...'

'Don't matter.'

'It does. I...I wasn't a good friend to ya when ya came back.'

I relaxed against him then because it started to feel good. I remember that he'd never touched me before probably because he sensed that I didn't like it but here he was touching me just like my brother did. Well, not quite, I had to remind myself. It was just a hug. No threat. I had to remember that despite whatever had happened.

'It's OK..'

'No, it ain't. I jus'...jus' didn't know what to do...'

Fuck. Why did it seem like everyone touching me so much more lately and not just my brother?

He grunted and released me. 'I'm glad ya with me. That ya didn't go...You and Merle both.'

Ya wouldn't be if ya know what he'd done. I thought to myself.

….

Dirk tossed and turned in his tent. They'd finally settled camp not far from the bottom of the mountain and planned to move on the next day.

He felt himself disappearing – a red veil had descended across his vision and he heard the voices calling to him in his feverish dreams as he tossed and turned in his tent. Growling voices speaking without words but nevertheless he understoo that they were calling him to them. Telling him that he was safe now because he was one of them.

Nobody had noticed that he had been bitten – he had covered it up and just prayed it would go away. But the sickness was spreading with him, he could feel it...A band of not unpleasant heat radiating from his arm where the wound was.

He knew he should leave or kill himself first before he became a threat to the others but his will-power was fading. Along with the growing fever.

He'd left it too late to do the decent thing. Nobody would care, he had no family left.

And no-one came to check on him, nobody knew.

That night he stumbled out of the tent after his body died, he went straight to Carol. Instinctively following the smell of fresh meat.

She didn't know what hit her and taken by surprise while she was sleeping, she didn't stand a chance.

Some vestige of humanity had made him pause before he lunged, going for her throat and then her intestines.

She died mercifully quickly.

By dawn she was up again and Andrea managed to shoot her in the head before she lunged at her. But Dirk was already attacking another tent.

...

Hiding in the woods near the second camp, someone was watching, calculating his next move before his mouth grimaced in pain.

He could use this, he knew.

He wanted his boys back, both of them. Besides, he didn't have much time left but he was formulating his plan as he swallowed another two morphine pills, followed by a swig or two from his canteen.

…

The attack came switfly. After they'd killed or turned the others, Will had grabbed Dirk and Carol, tied their hands behind them and led them by halters he'd made out of ropes. He'd learnt that having your own Walker 'pets' kept the others at bay. Andrea snarled but backed off at the sight of them.

Will Dixon was getting weaker but he'd managed to make them into weapons...Rick' s people would be shocked when they saw that it was their friends who had come back to attack them and it would make them weak. He planned to use that against them.

Use it to get revenge, he'd overheard his sons – his sons – betraying him, telling the leader to kick him out. Painting him the monster... He also had his shotgun with enough bullets...

'I'll show you...' He thought to himself as he checked his ammunition after he'd tied his two Walkers to a tree. 'Think ya can mess with ol' Pa Dixon? I maybe dyin' but I ain't dead yet. Think ya can take my boys away from me? I'll show ya. Show ya'll. A gift of tears is what I got in store for ya...all of ya...'

With that, he fell asleep, despite the snarling of his companions.


	29. Chapter 29

TTWH 29

I  
Daryl   
The next night, (after the first one, people had just been too shell-shocked to talk and had just gone to bed early) I stared into the fire and refused the bowl of squirrel stew that Maggie offered me but I swigged the whiskey they passed around like we were celebrating instead of commiserating. I wasn't hungry and it didn't seem right to eat when we'd lost Carol and the others. Afterwards, I regretted not following them and I could see that Rick did too.  
'Give me some of that.' My brother rudely grabbed the bottle from me and ruffled my hair after he'd gulped down a few mouthfuls but I pulled away. Merle reluctantly handed it over when Dale motioned that he wanted some. The old man was looking particularly downcast and not his usual cheery self and didn't often partake in the booze but I guess even he needed something to take the edge of the group's split. Him and Carol had been close.  
My brother frowned at my reaction. 'Ya OK?' He asked stupidly. It seemed the events of the morning had just rubbed off him like water off a duck's back.   
He didn't give a shit about anyone except for me and it made me furious. 'What do ya think? Carol's gone and taken half of the group with her! Including Andrea.'  
He had the good grace to look a little guilty then.   
'And the rest of ya!' I leapt up and kicked the bowl over ungratefully that the older Greene sister had laid down on the ground for me 'In case I changed my mind' and glared at everyone. 'How can ya jus' sit there and eat like nothin's happened?'  
'They'll be OK.' Rick said. 'I couldn't force them to stay - I ain't that kind of man and I hope I would never be that kind of leader.'  
'Ya don't know that and we could have gone with them.' The truth was I had a bad feeling – and Dad was still out there waiting for a chance to hurt us. I could feel his malicious will reaching out its piosonous tendrils and the worst was not knowing what to expect.  
'Why didn't ya jus' back down and we could have all stayed together! Fuck ya stupid pride!' I yelled down at him, fists clenched. I was tempted to punch him in the mouth for his stupid decision and also furious with myself for staying with him. Merle would have followed me wherever.  
He only looked back at me calmly and then his eyes slid away.  
'Daryl, is this about ya Dad?' Maggie piped up. 'I'm sure he's gonna be OK. Carol and the others too.'  
'What did ya say?' My voice was quiet but it sounded menacing, even to me and worse – now I was trembling like crazy when that old bastard's name was mentioned and just like that the memories swamped me. Our campfire disappeared and I was back there again but I knew logically that I couldn't be. But there's a big difference between knowing and experiencing.  
Dimly, I heard my brother Merle's voice rise as he snapped at her, 'What ya sayin' that to him for, ya stupid bitch? He fucked...'  
'Merle, shut up!' I managed to hiss while I saw Rick give him a hard look of warning before he hastily finished his sentence for him, '...fucked with their heads'.  
I wonder how many people fell for it? Everyone knowing that my dear old Dad was there too and had joined in violating me was simply too much on top of Carol and Andrea leaving. Meanwhile, those sissy words pleading with those people to stop touching me were coming out of my mouth and I couldn't stop them making me look pathetic and weak in front of the people who were left.  
Then I heard Rick continue, 'Dyin' or not, he was dangerous. He only came back to hurt all of us but especially his sons. He hadn't changed...We gotta pray that he's really gone.'  
I heard myself whimper at that and immediately hated myself afterwards as hot tears of shame suddenly appeared and burned my eye-lids. My brother must have known how I felt because he hid my head down in his lap and the darkness did feel good. Not like everyone was watching me.  
I wondered why I didn't get up and leave before I broke down but I couldn't make my limbs move. I was paralysed, just like with Dad in the tent...What was it about my father and big brother that they held so much power over me like this? Was it just because I was the youngest?  
I heard Beth say 'He OK?' But no-one else was taking any notice.  
'Aw come on. What can a sick old man do?' Shane scoffed over my head while I could feel my brother stroke my back soothingly.  
'Plenty.' Merle growled. 'He's more than a match for ya, Walsh.' He was goading him but the big man just laughed in disbelief. You don't know him. I thought to myself and that's when I must have blacked out. The others were ignoring me like I had meltdowns everyday.  
That's when I must have lost it, lost it big time. Weren't the first time it had happened, I honestly didn't know how I would have survived Woodbury if I didn't go to that forest in my mind – where I was hunting with my brother like we used to. Anyway, I don't remember anything after that.

…  
Dale

I shook my head but at least the booze I'd had made things a little more fuzzy. I could hardly still believe what had happened...Carol had gone off and Rick had just let her.   
It was true that some people weren't happy with the Sheriff's leadership, his behaviour and decisions had become more and more erratic and there'd been rebellion brewing long before the showdown earlier. Carol was the only one who had the guts to say what many were thinking and even I was starting to rethink my loyalty to Rick. Was staying the wrong decision?  
Too late now.   
I watched the exchange between the leader and the Dixons and then it struck me. It seemed to me that Will Dixon had been at Woodbury the same time Daryl was prisoner but what did that mean?  
I shuddered because judging by Daryl's reaction when Maggie mentioned their father, he'd gone pale like he'd seen a ghost. Started acting out like he used to just after he got rescued, clearly in the throes of a flashback, poor man.  
I didn't let myself think what it all meant...I'd seen the scars on his back -we all had one time or another but would their father have gone that far?  
When Merle screamed at Maggie 'What ya sayin' that to him for, ya stupid bitch? He fucked...'  
and how Rick finished his sentence for him, '...fucked with their heads' told me everything I needed to know. But had anyone else picked up on it? I hoped not but I didn't think so.  
That's when we heard the noise. Coming from out of the woods, a low shuffling sound. Didn't moan or snarl like a Walker but everyone turned and looked in its direction fearfully, got their weapons out.   
Merle pushed his brother off him none-too-gently and got his gun out. 'Look after him!' He barked at Maggie because it was clear that Daryl was going to be no use.. 'Least ya can do.'  
Daryl just lay there limply, curled up in a ball on the ground. He didn't even react.  
'What...What do I do?  
'I'll do it.' Beth rolled her eyes at her and pull his head into her lap like he was a frightened child . Started running her hands through his hair and singing a lullabye under her breath which he seemed to respond to. She sensed that her sister was in some way scared of him but not as much as she was of Merle and she wanted to show that she had no fear of either of them.  
Rick motioned to the others to be quiet and looked around as if considering something. Then he pointed at the gay married couple, it was clear that he didn't want too much backup. It didn't even sound like a Walker, probably an animal but everyone was on high-alert after the last attack.   
They all stopped dead in their tracks because they were so wrong. They now saw the reason why the shuffler hadn't made any noise.   
It was a Walker – more than one but it was more who it was that struck them the hardest.


	30. Chapter 30

Will grinned behind zombie-Carol and Dirk who he held in front of him on leashes he had made out of rope. Then he reached behind them to undo the gags. He'd worked out long ago that if he kept a couple of rotting freaks near him while he slept out in the open, they acted as camouflage and kept the others away. Covering yourself in walker guts and blood also did the trick and that's exactly what he had done next for added protection. He knew he stank and looked scary as hell – exactly like he had just come from there, just as he intended.  
Probably the only reason he'd been able to survive out in the open after he'd left Woodbury – he sure as hell couldn't live up a tree...even get up one with his arthritis was nigh impossible and as his liver cancer progressed, he felt himself becoming increasingly weak and incapicated.   
Time to have some fun before he was too far gone, not that he would let himself go that far. He planned to eat his gun after he saw his boys were seen to and made the cop pay.   
Then he saw Daryl curled up on the ground and the little Green bitch was comforting him . The little pussy wasn't even moving and for one second a stab of fear pierced him but then he realised what was wrong with him! Was just laying there with his head in the pretty blonde girl's lap and she was singing to him – sounded like a lullabye, just like all hell hadn't broken loose around her.   
Easy prey! So he let go of Carol and pushed her over to the Greene girl and his youngest son while the others were distracted and shoved off Dirk in the other direction. Behind him, he could hear the others snarling a little further back – once they were a herd, they stuck together. Kind of like the living – safety in numbers. Beth screamed then when she saw Carol shambling towards here, her arms outstretched as if imploring to her but the ravenous look in her eyes and the growling sounds coming from her throat told a different story.  
'Daryl!' Beth looked around in panic, her long ponytail swishing from side to side. 'It's Carol!'  
'Carol?' The boy was so out of it, he didn't hear the sounds of fighting and walkers snarling and the shouts but he was coming awake now.  
'Carol? She came back?' His tone was so full of sweet hope that Will knew then that he loved her. All the more pain when he realised that she was dead....or something even worse. He hadn't turned Dirk or made him attack the others but he hadn't done anything to stop it either. Would his sons know that?  
'No – she's – she's...' Beth was backing away. 'Daryl!'   
'No!' He yelled when he saw her.  
'Daryl!' Will heard his other son call over him from the other side of the camp where he was fighting a melee of walkers when he heard him shout. 'It's Dad...He's brought Walkers with him! Get ya weapon out and fight!'  
But Merle was distracted, helping Rick dispatch the former members of their group.  
Meanwhile Daryl still appeared to be frozen on the ground. Only a single tear running down his cheek gave his emotions away. Beth put both arms around his chest from behind and tried to pull him back with her, make him get up. 'Daryl – we have to go now! We've gotta help the others!'  
That got him. No time to go back to his tent and get his crossbow (well he could but he would waste precious time) but he had his hunting knife. Meanwhile he watched his old friend come shambling toward them.  
He wiped his eyes and straightened up to meet her.  
'I got it.' Beth stood up and got her dagger out.  
'No...don't...' He shoved her behind him. He ran at Carol but stopped just before he got to him.  
'I'm sorry.' Beth and his father heard him whisper to her. 'Please forgive me.' Yet he hesitated before he took the final plunge and cut her head off clean from her shoulders with one clean, powerful stroke. It rolled to the ground and horrifyingly, her body swayed on its face before it tumbled and fell.   
His father chuckled. 'Aint payback a bitch, son.'  
'Didn't do nothin' to ya!'  
'Oh but ya did...You and Merle told ya cop-buddy to kick me out of camp. Told him I was a pervert - all lies! I'm a sick, dyin' old man - how could ya? I'm ya father!'  
'Ya got that right about bein' sick and ya ain't no father of mine!'  
Beth glanced fearfully behind her to see that no Walkers were moving towards them before she watched this tense father and son exchange nervously. She held his hand to show her support.  
'Fuck ya! Ya did this! I'm gonna kill ya old man, jus' like I should have done years ago!' Daryl screamed at their father, forgetting to help the others who were fighting for their lives, he tore his hand out of Beth's and rushed at him. But just then he heard Rick shout for back-up.  
'I'll deal with ya later, old man.' He hissed with hatred and turned his back away, and grabbing her hand again, he dragged Beth back with him.  
'Ain't got the balls to kill me, have ya son. Not even after what I did to ya.Always been a little sissy, even ya brother's tougher than ya.' He called contemptuously after him. Daryl was going to ignore his jibes but then Beth whirled on him in fury and he sneered at her.   
'Don't talk to him like that!' She looked down at her knife and gripped it hard.  
'Ooh...Got ya little girlfriend to defend ya while ya hide behind her skirts, that it, son?'  
'She ain't my...' He flushed and looked away while the sounds of the battle raged on around him. He knew he shouldn't let the old goat distract him but he was powerless under his gaze. Just like he'd been his whole life.  
'I'll kill him!' She hissed.  
Daryl stayed her hand and shook his head. 'No.' He said quietly but firmly.  
'But...'  
'He probably wants ya to. Make things easy on him that way...'Sides, we have to help the others. Go and make sure Judith's safe.'  
She frowned up at him. 'But I want to fight!'  
'Fight's nearly over.' It was true ...they realised this when they looked around.  
'We missed the action. Damn!' Daryl thumped himself on the leg in frustration. 'Was anybody hurt!' He shouted as the remaining half of the original group came together to take stock. He turned around to watch them come back and when he turned around, his father was gone.  
Good riddance.   
'Anyone bitten?' He called out to them.   
Because it would be his fault if anyone was. Because he'd been weak and out of it... and if he thought about all the people they had just lost – Carol -especially her, he was likely to break down in front of these people again. And he could see his friend Andrea's blood -streaked hair lying ont the ground.  
Weak, weak! He was so weak, his father was right. So he pushed the grief aside, focusing on the here and now.  
Rick did a quick head count. All present and correct. Most people looked bruised, clothes torn and were crying and/or comforting each other. Maggie had brought out Judith and was cooing to her while tears ran down her cheeks for the others but mainly for Carol. She hadn't joined in the main fighting but related how she had to fight off a couple of Walkers who'd been attracted by the baby. Even Dale was crying after Rick announced that everyone that had sided with Carol and gone with her was now lying dead on the ground. Had all turned recently.   
'How could they all have been caught off their guard and slaughtered like this?' People were asking each other.  
Maybe Dad set them up. Daryl thought but didn't say out loud. Because what comfort would it bring?  
'I think you should send everyone to the Infirmary tent.' Daryl whispered to him. Even if no-one's sayin' they got bit (they had shook their heads at his question), get Herschel to check'em out.'  
'Good idea.' Rick said.   
The leader looked around and counted again, realising that he'd made a mistake. There were only 20 from their group...not 21. One of the living was missing.  
'Carl?' He called and went searching through all of them, parting them aside roughly in his haste. 'Carl?'  
Everyone took up the cry...shouting it out his name and rushing around looking for him.  
'He could be hurt!'. Rick cried. Or worse – bit and turned. But he didn't say this. He didn't have to – he saw the fear in their eyes.  
'Where are ya son?'  
But Carl wasn't anywhere to be found. There was just one obvious place they hadn't looked.  
Rick rushed back to his tent but they all knew that if he'd been in there, he would have come out by now.   
They all heard his anguished screams coming from inside. 'No! Fuck, fuck, NO! Ya can't do this, please!'


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TTWH 31
> 
> What has happened to Carl? What did Rick find in his tent? Was it Carl's body?

'No! Fuck, fuck, NO! Ya can't do this, please!'  
Shane rushed in the tent when he heard the leader's screams. 'What is it, Rick? What's happened.  
Daryl made to follow suit but his brother gripped his arm and held him back. 'But what if...'  
He didn't finish his sentence but everyone knew what their greatest fear was. Rick finding the bloody, bitten corpse of his son or worse – Carl already turned as a walker. But there hadn't been any walker sounds coming from the tent. Not that they could hear anyway.   
'Rick!' Shane called out to him as he unzipped the tent. 'What is it?'  
That's when he found him clutching ….paper. He was shaking his head and crying.  
Shane didn't ask him what he said but snatched it from him. Then he read its contents written in badly-formed script like the author wasn't used to writing and had a shaking hand.  
'No! Fuck, fuck, NO! Ya can't do this, please!'

YOU TOOK A DYING MAN'S SONS FROM HIM  
NOW HE'S TAKEN YOURS INSTEAD

Then chillingly, written underneath in lower-case letters:

Don't bother looking for us. Boy's dead or might as well be.

'Rick.' Shane sighed and threw the note disdainfully onto the floor, shook his head and put an arm around his shoulders but his friend angrily pushed him away.  
'Come on.' He hastily dried his tears. 'Ain't got no time to waste!'   
'But can't we stay and jus' recoup a little while? We only jus' won the battle.'  
'Won?' Rick glared at him and if looks could kill, Walsh would have already dropped dead to the floor. 'You think we won? With Carol and Andrea and the half the group dead?'  
Despite himself, the big man found himself backing off and stuttering. He'd never seen that look in his best friend from childhood – burning, cold, murderous fury.  
'When I get my hold on that old man, he's gonna pray for me to make it quick. But I won't …I'll drag it out long and slow...'  
'Rick! He's got Carl! He's our priority, not gettin' revenge. Though I wouldn't mind that too, 'course I wouldn't.'  
'Exactly! And ya want to stay and rest...'  
'I love him too! Like my own because he's yours, Rick! But we ain't gonna be good for nothin' if we don't take care of ourselves first.' Shane paused and took a long breath. 'I'm only talkin' about an hour or two...'  
'An hour or two is all it takes for him to kill him. Or worse.'  
Shane frowned at that but didn't ask him what he meant by it. No doubt his shrewd mind was already putting two and two together though.  
'Let's tell the others. We said after what happened to Daryl at Woodbury, we weren't gonna have no secrets between us anymore.' He urged.  
'Yeah, bein' all open and candid with each other didn't help any to keep us together though, did it?' Rick snapped back bitterly and wiped his sweaty brow with a rag he had in his pocket. 'Sorry, didn't mean to snap at ya. Ain't ya fault.'  
'But it is yours!' Somebody yelled furiously and suddenly Daryl was there and the two ex-cops saw his brother with him. Of course. Merle trailed behind him like a second shadow these days.   
Daryl quickly picked up the scraps of paper and read it, his eyes widening in fear and horror.  
'Carol, Andrea and all the others and now Carl – ya killed 'em!' He yelled and suddenly lunged at Rick but Shane got in the way. 'Now, I know we're all upset...'  
Merle merely stood behind him and smirked. Not intervening but enjoying the show. Rick hated him for that.  
'If ya had agreed to go with'em instead of bein' so stubborn, if ya had listened to us about Dad in the first place and got rid of him instead of fallin' for sick, old dyin' man crap...' Daryl struggled furiously against Shane's hold but couldn't get at his friend. 'Let go of me!'  
'Better do what he says.' Merle growled behind them, the threat in his voice was clear when his little brother was being touched against his will.   
'Lemme go!' Daryl hissed again, panic starting to cloud his vision.  
'Don't ya think he feels bad enough? Shane complied but looked ready to hold him back the minute there was more trouble. 'Besides, he couldn't stop Carol and the others from leavin'.'  
'What...What do ya think he's gonna do to him?' Rick only cared about his son and brushed off the Dixon's accusations. The truth was that he couldn't make him feel more guilty or bad about how things had turned out than he already did. If only Daryl knew...  
'What he did to us.' Merle came right into the tent with them instead of hovering half in and half out.  
Rick shuddered.  
'Then kill'im.' The older Dixon finished brutally. The underlying meaning was clear to the leader, not so to his best friend  
'Unless we go after him. Jus' us.' Daryl proposed. 'It's getting' light already.' He glanced outside through the opening in the flap.  
'But...'  
'We know him, know how he thinks. Besides, we're the best trackers.'  
Rick looked at Shane.   
'But...'  
'Let'em go.' His friend said. 'We can't...Everybody is exhausted,grievin'.'  
'Fine.' Rick gave in. 'Please, please bring him back to him, unharmed and...'  
'Oh, we can't guarantee that, Officer Friendly.' Merle cut in.  
Daryl elbowed him when he saw the man's stricken face. 'Shut the fuck up!' He hissed at him.  
'We'll bring him back.' He promised more honestly.

 

….........

With that, Merle went out the tent first,, then Daryl, Shane and finally Rick. He had an announcement to make to the anxiously twittering crowd – none of which had dared to intrude on his pain.  
'What is it, Rick? What's happened?' Dale was first to speak while the Dixons went off to get their tracking gear and sufficient weapons.  
'Will Dixon's got Carl.'  
There were gasps of horror at this and Beth cried out 'No!' and started to sob while her sister did her best to comfort her. But it was what most people were expecting, after all. If the boy was still alive that was.  
'But he's dying, right?' Glenn piped up. 'What can he do?'  
'A whole lot.' Rick replied and left it at that. Everyone knew that men with nothing to lose were the most dangerous. So he let them make of it what they will.   
'Anyway, the Dixons have volunteered to go and find their father and bring Carl back.' Shane explained but didn't elaborate on how they planned to deal with Will Dixon. Nobody asked, after all, their priority was the boy.  
…  
The brothers left the camp.  
'Do ya ...Do ya think he'll do to him what he did to me when I was his age?' Merle asked his brother fearfully now that they were alone as they went along looking for signs. The boy would have been struggling unless – more likely – the old bastard had put him out before he took him. Was their father still strong enough to drag along a skinny but quite tall for his age – 12 year old? He was considering all this while he and Daryl were intent on looking for signs of a struggle along the forest trails...bent vegetation, broken branches or even bits of torn clothes.  
They were also looking for their father's bootprint.  
Daryl didn't answer.   
'I mean - can the ole goat even still get it up?' Merle kept needling at his little brother. Desperate for attention and to break the tense silence.  
'Merle – if ya don't shut – Look at that!' He ran over the fifth trail they'd investigated from the tent and hadn't found a print – nothing that was conclusive. The evidence was pretty all messed up from the walkead feared most was not finding any trace – no doubt their Daddy knew they would be the ones to try and track him down and he would try to hide his tracks as much as he could. But he was old, sick and weak...Might even be in agony if he'd run out of medication not that pain ever stopped a Dixon from doing anything.  
Both of them were hopeful now, even Merle and they found themselves firmly on the path their father and Rick's son had taken and followed it with confidence. Of course, there were no footprints as such but the path was beaten underfoot with the long grass that grew up either side of it.


	32. Chapter 32

….  
Carl came to groggily and couldn't remember where he was. It was about noon judging from the position of the sun in the sky...They'd all learnt how to tell the time this way since the world went to hell.   
'Ya awake, son.' Daryl and Merle's father chuckled and reached over to stroke his cheek with one dirty finger. He jerked away and tried to move his arms before he realised that he couldn't feel them. He was trussed up like a turkey with ropes binding his ankles and hands behind his back.  
'Wha...?' His mouth felt dry and had a metallic taste in his mouth. He was thirsty and behind his forehead, a drum-beat of pain started to beat. He winced.  
Then he noticed there was a fire cooking something in a pot hung over it from a tripod made of wood. It smelled tasty, whatever it was and his mouth watered.  
'Lemme go!'Then he started to kick in panic when he remembered what had happened. They had been attacked in the night...He'd heard the screams and snarls of the Walkers. Carol had left before that with half of the group...He'd been about to crawl out of his tent and help them fight when Daryl's father had come in and knocked him out with something.   
Now he woke up here.  
Will grinned. 'OK, but only ya legs, mind. We'll eat some rabbit stew then see what we can do.'  
'Why...Why are ya doin' this?'  
He laughed but the chuckle soon turned into a raucous cough that had him bent over, gasping for breath.  
Will recovered and leaned over him, still smiling at him while he untied the binds around his feet. The boy thought there was something creepy about it that he had never noticed before.  
'Ah..It's ready. Not that I have much of an appetite...Dyin' of the big C will do that to ya but ya a growin' lad, ain't ya boy?'  
'I ain't hungry either. Jus' let me go and I won't tell no-one, I promise.'  
Will reached over to trail his fingers over his lips and tug down the lower one with his thumb. Carl squirmed and tried to get away but of course, he couldn't.  
'No, ya won't do that son. Ya ain't gonna tell no-one about the special fun we're gonna have with each other.'  
'What ya talkin' about?' He wasn't a total innocent, he knew some bad men hurt boys like him. Sometimes they hurt girls too but he was hoping that Will wasn't one of them.   
'I'm talkin' about makin' ya Daddy pay.'  
Carl gaped.  
'Yes, that's right.' Will stroked his hair off his face and he flinched. This annoyed Will immensely because it reminded him of his younger son, how he could never touch him growing up without him reacting in the same way.  
'Dad didn't do anythin' to you! He let ya stay, eat our food. Herschel gave ya our medicine!'  
'Oh but he did.' Will laid back to watch the pot start to boil. 'He was going to take my sons away from me...Ya see, he was going to kick me out when I'm dyin' anyway. Only got a short time left to spend it with my boys.'  
'Daryl says ya a bad man. That ya whipped him and Merle with ya belt. Did ya?' The kid was glaring up at him fearlessly and Will had to respect that.  
'I drank a lot back then. Don't remember half the stuff I did.' He answered mildly and shook his shoudlers.  
'Are ya gonna whip me too?'  
'Oh, no, son. I would never dream of doin' that. 'Cos I something better planned for after dinner.  
Carl turned his away and prayed that he wasn't going to torture him.  
'Don't worry. Ya'll like it.' The old man spoke as if he was reading his mind. 'It'll be a real treat.'  
The boy shuddered.  
…  
Merle followed behind his brother, admiring the lean form and tight ass as he strutted confidently in front of him.  
'How far?'  
'We must be nearly there.' Daryl mused and bent down to look at something on the ground.   
That was it for Merle. He was feeling like he wanted something a bit more before they went on. But would Daryl go for it?  
Without warning, Merle rushed him and shoved him against the tree, spun him around and crushed his lips on top of his. Not touching anything he shouldn't be yet but still...Daryl gasped. His big brother's arms were around him making him feel warm and safe, starting off so many other feelings that he didn't want to admit he ever had for him...  
Daryl growled protests but despite himself, his body was responding. He'd gone a long time without – not even using his own hand due to the most recent tragedies. And Merle knew it, the opportunistic bastard.  
Hell, he hadn't even had time to grieve for Carol and the others...and he was determined that they wouldn't be grieving for Carl too.  
They weren't going to lose another person and Rick wasn't going to lose his son. He thought to himself stubbornly  
'Merle, what the fuck?' He shoved his brother off him. 'Carl...  
'What about him? He can wait a little longer.' Merle lunged forward again and Daryl drew back his fist to split his lip.  
'Ha ha, little brother.' He wiped the blood from his mouth but seemed to think it was funny.  
'We find the kid first!' Daryl blurted out without really thinking what he was saying. 'Fuck knows what Dad's doin' to him...'  
'Things I want to do to you, baby brother?' Merle chuckled callously, filthily.  
'Sick fuck.' He muttered but his brother could see that he was excited too judging by the crotch of his jeans and he'd heard him say 'first'. 'Ya don't give a shit about him, do you? All ya care about is ya dick, ain't that right?'  
'Can ya blame me?' Merle leered at him and waggled his tongue.'No, of course, I don't want nothin' bad to happen to the kid...'  
'Come on then.' His brother snapped irritably. 'Prove it. Help me find them.'  
Merle considered pouncing on him as soon as he turned his back to him, pinning him down to the ground and seducing him. It would have been a challenge but worth it if made could make Daryl beg him to take him and scream his name as he came, meanwhile Rick's brat could go to hell. Why did Daryl care so much about him when they hadn't given a shit about him after they got him back from Woodbury? He could just imagine what had happened – Daryl hadn't said so much in words, his loyalty to these people had him blindfolded – most of them had been embarrassed for his shame, didn't know how to deal with it or heal him, so they hadn't even bothered to try.  
It had all been up to Merle to do that...even if maybe his methods had been ...well,...a little unorthodox...  
…  
'Sit up.' Will ordered Carl. 'And I'll feed you.'  
He obeyed but not without trying to reason with him. 'Can't ya untie my hands first?'  
'Ain't gonna happen.' The old man clapped his merciless eyes on him, with their dark, empty pits. Looking into them was like seeing the abyss and he found it hard to tear his eyes away from them.  
'My Dad'll kill ya for this.'  
Will slapped his face hard enough to leave a red mark. 'Don't bite the hand that feeds ya.' He snapped. 'Ya ungrateful little shit.'  
He turned his back on him to ladle the hot rabbit stew into the pot.   
Carl closed his eyes and felt the tears leak from his eyes. But he couldn't wipe them away or stop them.   
He wanted his Dad and Carol but she was dead. He wanted Judith, most of all.   
'Ah...' Will turned to him with the steaming bowl and spoon and crooned mockingly. 'Didn't mean to make ya cry.'  
'I ain't!'  
'Come on, now, boy. Eat up.' He held up the spoon to his mouth. 'Remember doin' this for Daryl.' He muttered.  
Carl stared at him. 'Said I weren't hungry!' He turned his head away stubbornly.  
'Now, now don't be like that.' Will coaxed, his voice soft and grandfatherly but Carl knew better.  
Now he did.   
'Screw you!' Carl yelled and when he brought the spoon to his mouth, he spat it out all over him.  
Will looked at him, eyes dulling with rage.  
When the first blow came, Carl was caught off guard and blindsided. He didn't even feel it as he fell on his side.  
'What did I say to you, ya little shit?' Will laid into him, kicking him brutally with his heavy hiking boots. Carl didn't know it but he was fortunate that the man was dying and not in his prime.  
The sick old man gave him a few more dismissive kicks before he hissed down at him.  
'Was gonna ease ya in, nice and gentle like with Merle but don't think I'll bother. Not after ya disrespected me like that.'  
Carl groaned with pain. No adult had ever laid hands on him like this... he reflected, or like that, he thought, when he felt his pants being tugged off.He had to admit that up to the apocalypse, he'd had a sheltered childhood. Now he was getting a taste of Daryl's and Merle's and he didn't even have to the strength to resist.  
He weren't a Dixon, he was a pussy.  
…  
'We're goin' round in circles, baby bro! Didn't we jus' go past that tree stump?' Merle complained.  
Daryl looked at it, it was the very same one.  
'But...but...?' He looked helplessly at him and held out his hands, palms up.  
That did it. Merle could never resist him when he looked vulnerable like that. 'Come here.'   
This time when he kissed him, Daryl wound his hands in his hair and growled his need in his ear.  
'That's it, sweet boy. Ya jus' let ol' Merle take care of ya...'  
'But Carl...'   
'A few minutes ain't gonna make no difference, tellin' ya.' He was kissing his throat now, grazing his skin with his teeth just like he knew reduced him to a trembling mess.  
'But...' Was Daryl's last protest.  
'Gonna make ya feel real good, littl' brother. Like ya deserve. They don't appreciate ya.' Merle was tearing off his shirt by now and grinding against him. Daryl's eye-lids fluttered and he knew he was right. They both needed some R & R right away..they were exhausted. Would never find Carl when they couldn't think straight. They'd already missed some vital sign.  
Now his brother was praising him and touching him in all the right places and he was allowing it to happen again when he said he never would – that it was a sin (not that there had ever been any Dixon who had believed in God) when Carl needed them!  
But Merle was right, he was exhausted, his legs had been feeling like jelly for the last two hours now. He'd wanted to ask him if they could stop and rest but he didn't wanted to seem weak. Or be the first to be seen to give up the search.  
'Come here.' His brother growled at him and took him in his mouth just long enough to have him writhing and gasping. Merle had completely buck naked by now, and as the younger brother, it just seemed right to let him take control as he smothered kisses all over him. Yet he couldn't sto himself from hissing 'Bastard' as Merle stopped sucking him and prepared him instead. But he made no moves to stop him.  
'Ready?' His brother whispered and he nodded and braced himself for the pain. Neither of them had brought anything with them to make things easier.  
'Sorry, it's gonna hurt like a bitch. I'll try and go slow but...'  
Merle still wasn't inside him yet! 'Get on with it anyway!' He ordered, panting harshly.  
Daryl sensed rather than saw him smirk but he was gentle with him just like he promised.  
'Shh...' His older brother shushed him when he couldn't hold back a whimper and Daryl felt him stop moving. For a moment, it had seemed like they were there, touching, violating.   
Mocking.  
'Don't fuckin' stop, asshole! We gotta find Carl!'  
'Fine.' Again, he sensed Merle's lips twist into an ugly leer when he pulled back and then slammed back into him .  
He was right, it did hurt like a bitch and Daryl found himself fighting to hold in a pathetic protesting sound of pain but his body soon adjusted and when his brother found that sensitive spot inside him like he always did, he gave into the pleasure of it. Merle tormented him with it, slamming into it with skilful precision and all thoughts of Carl – guilt over him and Carol and all the others he'd failed to save we  
If only they could have held back a little longer, persevered a bit more, Carl might have been spared his ordeal. 

None of them knew it but he was only a few hundred meters away from them.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally got some time off this week so more time for writing, yay! I know this chapter is turning really dark again...Graphic scenes and description of child sexual abuse (sorry – I need it for the plot to move forward) that may trigger so please don't read if it bothers you! Actually I'm cringing as I'm writing it...

i

Will grunted and and finished pulling Carl's pants off. The boy resisted silently by kicking out with his feet and squirming, to try and make things as difficult as possible for him and Will felt a small grudging respect for the brat who'd no doubt had it easy most of his life with a father like Rick. But there wasn't much he couldn't do because he still had his hands tied behind his back and was half-dazed from the vicious beating besides and he wasn't no Dixon.

'Still got some fight left in ya, huh, son?' Will laughed when he pulled down his underwear and flipped him over to lie on his stomach and straddled him so that he wouldn't get kicked.

Now Carl started to really panic as adrenalin cleared his head and sharpened his fear. Now he started to beg.

'Please, don't.' He begged. 'I won't tell anyone, promise.'

Will snarled and slapped one of his buttocks so hard that it turned red. Carl hissed in pain at the sting.

'Littl' pussy.' Will mocked. 'Jus' stay still for Daddy...'

'Ya ain't my Dad!'

'Oh, but I will be.'

'What?' Carl spat out in confusion.

'Sh...It's OK, Merle.' He stroked his hair. 'Don't cry. I ain't gonna hurt ya.'

'I ain't Merle!'

Will shook his head. As his sickness progressed, he'd been having these hallucinations more and more often, merging past with present. Is this how it ends? He'd thought to himself. I'd rather be dead than end up not knowing what's real and what ain't.

He winced as the ever-increasing pain in his side made its presence known again but he ignored it. It was only a twinge in comparison and he'd take care of it afterwards he'd had his fun.

'Don't!' Carl screamed when Will licked his finger to coat it in saliva and rubbed it along his crack. Despite his disgust, the teenager bucked.

'That's it, that's my boy. Pity I ain't nothin' else 'cept my spit.' Will chuckled.

'Stop...' Carl protested but to his horror, it came out like a moan.

'That's it. Knew ya'd like it... Be a real good little Daddy's bitch. It'll hurt less if ya jus' relax.' With that, he went further and slid one finger in, then two.

Carl clenched his teeth while tears of humiliation trickled from his eyes. He didn't like it but his body seemed to.

'Stop!' He yelled making the old man grunt in irritation as he clapped a hand in his hair and yanked it painfully back. Carl could hear him scrabbling with one hand behind him for something and suddenly he felt rather than saw a cool blade on his throat.

'Shut up and be still otherwise I'll slit ya throat afterwards and gut ya like a pig and leave ya for ya Daddy to find.'

That got him and when the knife was removed, he nodded, hating himself for his cowardice. Daryl and Merle would never have submitted so quickly when it was obvious that he wouldn't kill him before he had his fun. Meanwhile, he was aching all over from the kicks and blows and his head was pounding in his head.

'Now, ya gonna lie still for me?'

He turned his head to the side in resignation and nodded.

'I said 'Are ya gonna behave, boy! Answer me properly when I speak to you!' Will's voice rose in anger.

Carl stiffened. 'Yes, I'll behave.'

'Good.'

He cringed away when the man's hand came down on his head again, this time to run his fingers through his hair once more.

Carl shuddered.

He cried out when Will finished stretching him, using fingers coated only in his saliva. Then to his horror, he felt him get behind him.

'Sorry, this is gonna hurt but the first time always does.'

'Fuck you!' He bit back.

Will chuckled, didn't even punish him for this act of defiance as he began to slide in.

Carl bit his lip until it bled. He wasn't going to cry out and let the bastard know that it hurt.

In fact it felt like he was being impaled slowly on a spit, as if he were being torn apart.

'Did you do it to Daryl?' He screamed out, finally unable to keep silent any longer.

'Yeah, I did. Had both of my boys.'

'Ya sick! I hope they kill ya!' He yelled.

…

Daryl was feeling dozy coming down from the unbelievably powerful climax that his brother had given him as he lay with his head on his chest. He had to admit that it had been the best time ever with his brother, not that he'd ever tell him that. Meanwhile, Merle had slung a casual arm around him afterwards and it was clear that he felt the same, if his praises and moaning during had been anything to go by. Daryl could hear the slow beat of his heart and his breathing getting slower and slower as he drifted off to the realms of sleep.

Daryl snuggled, wanting to be as close to him as was physically possible but considering that they were both butt-naked and Merle was no longer inside him, they had to make do with this. His shifting a little caused the older man to grunt and tighten his hold on him as if by reflex.

Then he heard it. Clearly their hated father's voice mocking someone, no guesses who and Carl screaming that he hoped 'they' killed him. The words before he couldn't quite make out, his head was still groggy – the exhaustion was still there. They didn't know it but the wind had shifted direction, carrying over their voices. Daryl had time to wonder if they had been that close the whole time but Merle had been too focused on screwing his brains out and he had been too much into the experience, riding hard on the waves of pleasure that neither of them had heard. How could they not hear? They were Dixons, weren't they?

Had they been heard in turn? He didn't think so but how was that possible?

'Merle!' He pushed his arm off him suddenly and got up hastily, pulling on his clothes.

'Merle, wake up, dumbass!' He shook him. 'It's Dad and Carl! They're over there!'

His brother got up shakily. 'Wha...What?'

Daryl gave him a not so-gentle kick. 'Wake up!' With that, he got up and ran off towards where the sounds were coming from. 'He's got him!'

Merle sighed and bent down to pick up his clothes and hurry to follow his brother.

….

Carl held back a scream when he felt the old man start to move inside slowly. Will Dixon was inside him! He nearly blacked out from the pain and something told him that he would be bleeding afterwards.

'You FUCK!' He yelled before he dissolved into sobs.

Will snarled and yanked back his head by the hair and started to increase his pace. 'Was gonna start ya off all nice and gentle but don't think I'll bother.'

Now he was pounding into him and the pain almost caused the boy to black out. He was still a lot smaller than a fully-grown man and he wondered dully if he'd be damaged permanently from this.

Yet he could do nothing but wait for it to all be over.

Turned out that luckily he didn't have to, they were interrupted long before that when Daryl burst onto the scene and covered his mouth with his hand and backed off in horror. He was clearly shocked by the scene in front of him, his father on top of Carl who had his hands tied behind his back, screwing him. He was clearly uncomfortable to say the least but at the same time, he couldn't tear his eyes away like he wanted to.

'Get the fuck off him, Dad!' Daryl yelled at him after recovering himself but still making no move towards them. It was as if his father still had power over him, freezing his limbs, pinning him down to one place.

Will merely chuckled at his son's stunned reaction and started thrusting again just as brutally before. Incredibly, he carried on, grinning and panting or letting out a moan occasionally, like having his two sons watch him in action would add to his excitement because if Daryl was here, Merle wouldn't be far behind. He never left his baby brother's side these days and their father supposed that it was probably down to guilt for failing to protect him again.

The boy beneath him let out a low sob and turned away in moritfication. He'd wanted to be rescued but now someone had turned up, he was full of shame that they saw him like this because he'd looked up to Daryl.

Merle finally caught up and immediately grabbed his brother from behind, hushing him when he saw the scene in front of him.

'Get off the boy, Dad.' He ordered him calmly, using almost the same words as his brother.

'No! This is probably the last time I'm gonna get laid. Jus' let me finish and then I'll crawl off and die like you and Daryl want me to.'

'Ya right about that. Ya are gonna die but not from cancer, sick fuck.' Will hadn't even stopped or slowed down. The smirk on his face and his sounds of pleasure proved that he wasn't embarrassed in the least. The opposite in fact – he was taunting all of them and seemed glad that he had pulled the wool over Rick's eyes and got his son.

'Stay there.' The older Dixon brother told the younger before he rushed at them and physically dragged him off Carl. Then, his face scarlet with rage, he started kicking their old man.

Watching his big brother beating the crap out of their father snapped something deep inside

Daryl and his paralysis wore off. He went over to the boy who was laying there unmoving, as if he wasn't even aware of what was going on. Was deaf and blind but he recognised that blank stare that spoke of shock.

'Sh...' He helped him up, deliberately avoiding looking at his nakedness. He reached round to undo his hands. Meanwhile, he could hear his father's grunts and cries of pain instead while his brother 'punished' him.

'Don't look.' He whispered to Rick's son but he needn't have bothered. Carl just sat there, not caring that he had no clothes on in front of the Dixon and Daryl could see mentally, anyway, he wasn't there.

'It's over now.' He helped him up and Carl let him.

'Where are ya clothes?' He asked him softly.

No answer but Daryl spotted them, rolled up in a ball under a tree.

'That's enough!'. Distracted, he suddenly shouted over to his brother. 'Ya killin' him!'

'So?' Was Merle's callous answer but he stopped briefly letting the old man catch his breath.

Daryl picked up the boy's things and threw them at him and like an automaton, Carl picked them off the ground and started to put the filthy clothes back on.

'I said fuckin' stop!' Daryl suddenly roared, making Carl show some reaction since he zoned out, he flinched. The Dixons didn't notice however, Daryl was sickened despite himself, even after everything their father had done to hurt them and their new family when he saw the blood dripping from Will's mouth and the bruises on his face.

'Ya serious?' His brother looked at him in disbelief while their father quivered and moaned on the forest floor.

'We take him to Rick.' Daryl's voice was final.

'But...'

'Believe me, the group'll make him pay. Rick'll make him hurt even more than we ever could.'

That's when Carl came alive. 'No...' He moaned. 'Please don't tell 'em.'

Daryl knelt down to look up at him. Holding his eyes he said quietly, 'They need to know. It ain't ya fault.'

Carl's eyes narrowed and even the Dixons were taken aback at the sudden, fully adult cold calculation in them. 'Kill him here. Don't need to tell Dad...say ya found us in time.'

Daryl looked away guiltily at that because maybe if he and his brother hadn't been thinking of their dicks, they could have got there in time and saved him from the violation. No point blaming the wind direction – they'd got slack and given in to the exhaustion too quickly instead of shaking it off and pushing forward. Carl had really been close. Both of them knew from personal experience how rape changed a person. They were never the same afterwards.

Daryl looked at his brother and Carl could see that they were deciding what to do for the best.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was really harrowing. What are the Dixons going to do? What's Rick going to do when – if – he finds out what Daddy Dixon did to his son? Or will Carl be too ashamed to let anyone know?  
> Comments and kudos are welcome – they keep me writing. Thanks x

Carl

He had his arm around me and was pulling me in one direction but I didn't want to go there. I wanted to stay here and die. Couldn't face them or my father.   
Especially him.  
'No! NO!' I fought Daryl off and sank to the ground. Leaned my back against the tree-trunk.   
'Go on without me.' I told them.'I'll be fine.'  
Merle turned around from where he was leading his Dad by a rope with his hands tied behind him. He had him gagged but the old man barely looked conscious – just shuffling forward on his feet, seemed like just a harmless, sick old man who didn't know where he was. Probably he didn't.   
Daryl let me go and sighed.  
'We can't stop! We gotta take this piece of shit back to the camp!' The older Dixon protested but I barely heard him. It was like none of us were really here.   
Daryl knelt down in front of me. 'I'm so sorry. We didn't know you were there...'  
I shrugged. 'Whatever.' I mumbled. I didn't understand what he meant – not then.  
I looked up at them. 'Did he do it to you too?' I just came out with it.   
But Merle was the only one to answer and turn away. 'Yeah,...yeah, he did.'  
'I'm sorry.' I said.  
Daryl glanced at me sharply.  
'No need to be. Don't need pity from the likes of you!' His brother snapped back harshly.  
'Merle!' He exclaimed. But right then even this still felt like a dream – or more accurately, - a nightmare. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that I would be waking up soon.  
'Come on, son.' Daryl said to me, grabbing my arm. 'Up ya get.' He yanked me back up.  
'You gonna tell Dad what he did to me?' I blurted out, stopping him with my hand on his arm.  
He stroked my hair – I hadn't expected that. Not from him. 'No – not if ya don't want me to.'  
'But what if he does?' I jerked my head towards the others.  
'Merle won't if I tell him not to.'  
I could see his brother bristle at that but he didn't say deny it.  
'I ...I meant ya Dad, I whispered.   
Daryl hugged me. 'No, he won't. He ain't gonna live long enough to tell, anyway.'  
I stared at him. He seemed like a different person now. Cold and merciless, not like the gentle person we were all used to except when you messed with him. Then, he was scary. It was his father after all but he didn't seem to care what happened to him.  
'He hurt you.' He explained. 'And the way he did, he don't deserve to live after that.' He gave him a scornful glance but Will didn't even seem to notice. Looked like a confused old man but I knew how devious he was – could have all been an act. He'd fooled Dad and me and the rest of the group even though we knew he put those scars on Daryl's back.   
'Put him out.' Daryl ordered Merle who sneered right before he punched their father hard in the temple and he slumped to the ground.  
I started to sob after that, unable to stop myself – remembering and reliving every disgusting moment. He rocked me while I could sense his brother looking on with a sneer on his face.  
Daryl snarled at him and held me tighter. His arms felt comforting around me, they made me feel safe.   
'Babyin' him ain't gonna do him no good in the long run. He needs a doctor.' Merle said and I turned away and buried my face in Daryl's chest.   
I sensed Daryl was going to snap back at him but that got him thinking instead.  
'No.' I sobbed. 'Don't tell anyone, not Dad...'  
His hands were in my hair. 'We won't do nothin' ya don't want, will we bro?' He barked over at his big brother. Funny, most people thought it was Merle who called the shots between them but now I knew better.  
'No.' Merle bowed his head almost demurely. Could I believe my eyes?  
'It hurts...' I moaned when I hadn't meant to let them know. Did my best to act as tough as them.  
'Sh.' He crooned to me. I didn't know he could be like that. Nobody did.   
Merle left his unconscious father and came over. Stretched out his hand towards my face while his own expression grew soft - I don't know how else to describe it but I flinched.  
'Don't ya touch him!' Dary l growled and yanked me away behind him.  
'I only wanted to...'  
'Yeah. I know what ya 'only wanted to do!'  
I blinked. What did he mean by that? Was Merle as sick as their father? But I'd never sensed that from him, never. Then again, I didn't realise what Will Dixon was.  
'Daryl..' I murmured and buried my face in his chest again to hide from him, suddenly afraid of Merle.  
'Sh...' He soothed, stroking my arm. 'He's jus' a big softie.' I could sense him glaring at his brother and Merle grinning up at him teasingly.  
'Merle ain't gonna hurt ya. I won't let him.'  
I looked up at him and he was smirking.  
'Fuck you.' I spat out and turned away again.   
They both laughed.  
…  
Dad breathed a sigh of relief and hugged me tight to him when we got back. Then he kissed my hair.  
'Is he OK?' He asked the Dixons over the top of my head. 'What happened?'  
I knew they were shrugging. 'Let him tell ya. What ya gonna do with him?'   
I turned around and cringed back despite myself when I saw Will Dixon. Still not reacting, still got his hands bound behind his back. His eyes were dead when I dared to look at him but at least he was awake – well, kind of. Merle had thrown water in his face to get him walking again.  
'Well, he's your father...' My father began.  
'No, no he ain't.' Daryl shook his head.   
'Let me take care of him.' Merle winked at them.   
'I'm not sure...' My Dad was reluctant.  
Merle chucked him one of his most disarming smiles. 'Oh come on, he's my Dad. I'll make sure he can't get away. That's he's cared for.'   
Dad nodded but then we didn't know how dumb we were for believing him.  
Meanwhile, Will looked dazed and like he didn't know what was going on. Like maybe they were discussing his fate. Or probably, he was so far gone that he didn't care.  
I cringed and buried my face in my father's chest, much like I'd done with Daryl. My   
whole body was trembling when I looked at the perverted son-of-a-bitch and the pain would come back. Worse- I could feel a trickle running down my legs and I guessed what it was...I wasn't so young and innocent that I didn't know I was bleeding.  
'Hey, hey...' My Dad was surprised at me acting that way with him as he ran his fingers through my hair.  
'Ya sure nothin' didn't happen to him?' His voice was hard when he addressed Daryl and Merle.  
'I said let him tell ya.' Daryl repeated what he said before. 'But our Dad had him when we found him, that's true.'  
I shuddered.  
'Come on, Carl.' My father pulled me away from him gently. 'Let's go and see Judith then you can tell me all about it.' With that, he entrusted Merle with the care of their father but if I was him, I wouldn't have. Not if I had seen that mean glint in his eye that I had – not that I cared.   
Truth was, I had no intention of telling Dad. He didn't need that on his plate as well and I would just deal with it.  
I actually thought I could deal with what happened to me alone. What a little idiot I was!  
Thought I could brush it away like it never happened – I mean, even Daryl had got better after a few months. Then again, he had Merle who seemed to know what to do without being told.  
But even so, I could never have predicted what we would see the day after and it would turn my stomach.   
Because nobody deserved that - whatever they'd done.


End file.
